The Flirtations of Lumiere & Babette
by A.S.112
Summary: Lumiere is known for being a ladies' man. When a beautiful new maid wanders by, he must introduce himself, blooming a series of flirtatious encounters. Based on both the Broadway musical and movie. Meant to be nice and fluffy!
1. First Encounters

**A/N:** Since I'm in the play at my school, I'm in the Beauty & the Beast mindset—and I'm Babette (remember the feather duster?) so I've come to understand her and Lumiere's relationship. Most aspects will be from the Broadway musical, but there are some from the movie as well.

This spans over the ten years they were objects along with when they were human before and after the spell. I'll skip over some of the time though.

I own nothing!

* * *

"Ho ho," Lumiere whispered to himself as an exotic resident passed down the empty corridor.

The new maid with curves, a sensual appeal, and a face that could stop death glided by with a hand on her swaying hip and her feather duster held up as if modeling it. Her maid outfit fit her perfectly, accentuating her tiny waist even more. She was almost strutting in her heels, her legs a wonder to behold.

Lumiere smooth the wrinkles in his shirt, swept his hair back, and swiftly back-tracked to the astounding creature that had caught his eye.

"_Pardonnez moi, mademoiselle_," Lumiere said as he stepped in front of the wandering maid. "But I'm afraid we aren't met. I would have recalled someone as beautiful as yourself." He picked up her hand and kissed it gently. "I am Lumiere. And you?"

The maid's eyes sparkled with interest as she surveyed the handsome man in front of her.

"Babette, _monsieur_," she replied through her smiling plump lips, eyelashes fluttering.

"Babette," he repeated, tasting the name. "What a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Hopefully we can make it more than just acquaintanceship."

"Let's hope," Babette said, liking this man more and more.

"Perhaps I could give you a tour if you would like, since you seem to be unfamiliar to these hallways--"

"Lumiere!"

Cogsworth came around the corner at the end of the corridor, skidding on the rugs, wig askew.

He ran the rest of the distance between them while yelling, "Lumiere! The Master wants you present in the foyer this minute!"

Lumiere sighed, positively annoyed and frustrated at the interruption, and turned back to the maid.

"My one thousand apologies _cherie_, but my duty calls." He kissed her hand one last time, turned to Cogsworth and strode quickly down the corridor.

After they were around the corner, Lumiere hissed, "You have the most impeccable timing."

"Well _excuse me_ for interrupting your little _introductions_ with the new maid," Cogsworth replied with venom. "But you can't ignore a summons from the Master!"

"You don't have to remind me, Cogsworth! I know quite well what he expects."

"Need I remind you of the fact that you should always be close-at-hand for the Master to call upon you at a second's notice?" Cogsworth bit back.

"How can you blame me for wanting to be away from him for a little while? He's been becoming more unbearable by the day! Surely you've noticed his shorter temper."

"Yes, unfortunately, I have," Cogsworth said sadly. "He seems to be more ungrateful and angrier than before. I don't understand what could possibly be changing in him."

"Whatever it is, we can't fix it," Lumiere sighed despairingly. "No one can."

* * *

Babette watched the newly-met man walk down the corridor until he was out of sight, a fabulous appeal in him blooming. It was apparent he was fascinated in her also. Living here was going to be much more interesting than she had first thought…

She continued on her way to the maids' room, a terribly boring place where the other maids talked about pointless subjects like how well they cleaned this room and that statue and blah blah blah. But it was the only place she was permitted to rest.

Her thoughts kept straying back to Lumiere, and she kept repeating their meeting in her mind.

Meeting Lumiere was the most excitement she's gotten since she arrived from a high-class village south of this grand castle. He seemed very appealing and full of flattery. Others would usually find that trait irritating, but she herself loved others using a variety of words to describe her.

Of course she's been approached by many men—some in this very place, but all of them were too predictable, bought her useless gifts and used flirtatious words that came out wrong and sounded bleak to her ears.

But this man, he looked like he knew what he was doing; he seemed confident, almost over-confident. Babette loved that in a man and so many didn't have that same type of confidence. He also had a delightful charm that she found extremely attractive.

For a first impression, she had gotten much out of him and couldn't wait for their next encounter.

She smiled to herself, flicking her feather duster carelessly, but with grace.

* * *

"Lumiere!"

Lumiere looked up at sound with slight surprise; his thoughts were elsewhere on the beautiful maid, Babette. But he was surprised at the Prince's tone most of all.

"Master?" Lumiere responded.

"Have you been listening to a word I was saying?" the Prince asked menacingly, from his perch on his throne.

"My apologies, Master, but I was only—"

"Enough!" the Prince interrupted. "You have no excuse to be ignoring me when I'm speaking to you! Nor do you have any excuse for wandering around and avoiding me like I was some disease!"

Shocked at the accurate accusation, Lumiere bluffed, "How could you possibly think that? I have not been—"

"Do you think I'm stupid?!" the Prince cut in again, eyes full of angry fire. "Do all of you think I'm a fool?!"

He indicated the other servants: Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and a few others.

Immediately, all started to deny it but they were silenced by His Highness.

"ENOUGH! If you wish to serve me no longer, I'll throw you out in the snow! How would you like that?"

Everyone made nervous glances at each other, but none spoke.

"I didn't think so." The Prince leaned back in his throne. "Now for your punishment for your treatments of me, I—"

_KNOCK! KNOCK!_

The noise echoed through the room from the front door. No one moved.

_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_

"WHAT NOW?!" the Prince cried, standing up.

The knocking continued, clearly persistent to have someone answer the door.

"UGH!" the Prince stomped toward the colossal double doors.

Lumiere uttered quickly, "I could get the door, Master—"

"NO!" the Prince said, turning on him. "I am capable of doing this myself."

Lumiere grimaced and retreated.

All eyes stayed on the Prince as he opened the doors, snow blowing in as he did so.

* * *

_KNOCK! KNOCK!_

Babette was again wandering the halls, hoping to happen upon Lumiere, when she heard the banging of the knockers on the main entrance doors.

She followed the noise, curious. Soon she heard yelling and more knocking. She glanced down from the second floor balcony to see a full view of the foyer.

The air in the room was so tense you could have plucked it like a string on a harp. All of the gathered servants were looking nervous and apprehensive, and were looking at the Master who was storming toward the doors.

Babette ran to the grand staircase as best she could in heels. As she came to the top of the staircase, the doors were opened and she felt a blast of cold air from the distance. Shivering, she stepped slowly down the stairs, trying to see beyond the Prince at the intruder.

A crinkly female voice as old as used parchment, whispered through the wind. "Please. Take this rose in exchange for shelter from the bitter cold."

"Get out of my sight, you ugly old hag!" the Prince cried, sounding repulsed.

"Do not be deceived by appearances, for true beauty is found within."

"Did you hear what I said? Be gone!"

The Prince made a motion to shut the door, but suddenly a blinding light blew the doors open, reflecting off of the marble walls and floor.

Babette turned away, eyes hurting. The light died slightly, and she dared to look up.

What she saw was incomprehensible, and everyone stared in wonder and awe at a beautiful enchantress holding a rose and levitating off the ground, power emanating from her. She was the source of light.

The Prince fell to his knees and began to apologize, but the enchantress's voice overlapped his.

When the enchantress spoke, her voice echoed through what seemed the entire castle. "You have been deceived by your own cold heart. A curse upon your house and all within it. Until you have found one to love you as you are before the last petal on this rose wilts and dies, you shall forever remain a beast."

Dots of light sparkled around Babette, and she began to feel different. In an instant, her feet left the ground and landed again, but not with feet.

She couldn't feel her arms, and the bottom part of her body was formless. She stared down at herself to see a mass of feathers attached to a handle.

Frightened, she tried to move. She did but she…swept across the rug. She didn't feel her legs. Nor her arms.

As the realization crashed down upon her, the enchantress disappeared in a flash of light, but Babette was still distracted with the fact that she was her own tool: a feather duster.

"What…" she began, but she was speechless. She glanced back up to see if anyone else had become feather dusters.

What she first saw scared her half to death, for where the Master was just standing, a big hairy beast was in his place.

Babette couldn't move nor take her eyes off of it. It was…hideous, and monstrous.

The monster turned suddenly around to face a collection of objects that had been procured out of nowhere. Where had the other servants gone?

They all began to move, and they all had faces filled with fear, staring at themselves and each other in turn.

"What…what I'm I?" a mantle clock said, looking down what seemed to be hands. The voice sounded English.

"Cogsworth?" A candlestick looked toward the clock, his voice sounding awfully familiar.

The clock glanced up for what seemed to be the first and screamed.

"What—what?!" He pointed to each object, looking terrified.

"Oh…" The clock fell unto his back; he had fainted.

"Oh my word," an elderly teapot said. "What…how did this happen?"

The beast took a step toward them.

All of the objects turned to see him and gasped in unison.

"M—Master?" the candlestick stammered.

"What do you see?" the beast growled.

Silence.

"WHAT DO YOU SEE?!" the beast roared.

The servants-turned-objects cowered, too afraid to speak.

The beast that Babette now suspected to be the Prince spun around to see a glowing hand mirror on the floor where he had been transformed along with a sparkling rose.

He walked slowly toward it, reached down to grab the mirror, and held it up to his face.

After a moment of silence, the beast whispered, "What am I?"

No one moved or spoke.

"WHAT HAVE I BECOME?!" Its voice shook the walls surrounding them.

In its fury, it roared and clawed up the wall to the second floor balcony and disappeared with the rose and mirror in hand.

"Oh…" A moan came from the clock as it sat up. "What hap—AH!"

"Cogsworth, it's only us!" the candlestick said. "Don't faint again."

"How did this happen?!" Cogsworth asked, frantic.

"I believe," the teapot explained. "we are cursed. Turned to objects for the Master's scorn. Be thankful; the Master's in a much worse state than ourselves."

"Be thankful?!" Cogsworth cried. "I'm a—a—"

"Clock," the candlestick finished. Babette finally recognized the voice and gasped.

She slowly approached them. "Lumiere?"

All of them looked in her direction.

Lumiere's eyes widened. "Babette? You are…"

Tears filled her eyes. "A monstrosity?"

"No no, _cherie_," Lumiere hopped to her quickly, almost losing coordination. "You look merely different."

He tried to reach for her hands with his candle stubs but there were no hands to grasp.

Babette instantly felt ashamed of her form and swept back toward the stairs.

"Babette! Wait!"

"Do not look at me!" She called, her voice terribly high-pitched. She didn't care where she was going. She just wanted to be alone and wallow in self-pity and shame.

* * *

**A/N: **The story will get happier I promise! But a tragedy almost always starts a story. Please review!


	2. Comforting Babette

Lumiere watched, helpless, as his attempt to comfort the maid fell to pieces; Babette flew up to the staircase in tears.

He never saw a sight more heart-breaking. How could a gorgeous woman think she looks like a monstrosity—even in this circumstance? She really didn't look bad at all; none of them did. But the problem was they've shrunk in size, lost their freedom of movement, and most of all, their humanity.

Lumiere sighed.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Potts said. "Who was that poor girl?"

Lumiere faced her. "Babette, a new maid."

"You mean," Cogsworth said, "that was the maid you were flirting with in the corridor?"

"Yes, you fool of a clock," Lumiere said, annoyed at him for his seeming lack of memory. "Who else?"

"Well you have fabulous taste in women," Cogsworth said sarcastically. "She's a touchy one about her looks. Pretty vain if you ask me. You two are a perfect match."

Lumiere felt himself get hot in the face and hands, furious. Fire sputtered on the wicks on them.

"Ah!" Cogsworth yelped. "How did you do that?!"

Lumiere looked at his hands, anger fading. "I don't know." Then he got an idea.

He observed Cogsworth with a knowing look and grinned.

Cogsworth understood and backed away. "Oh no no no! Don't touch MEEEE!"

As Cogsworth tried to turn and run, Lumiere thrust his lit hand to Cogsworth's backside, making Cogsworth jump into the air, hands over the burnt spot.

He landed back on the ground face first. He got up, dazed, and gave Lumiere a murderous look. "Why you—you over-lit, pompous stick of wax!"

Lumiere was a second ready before Cogsworth jumped on him.

"Boys!" Mrs. Potts shouted, outraged. "Stop this nonsense!"

Immediately they realized what they were doing and stopped in mid-punch. Lumiere straightened up as well as Cogsworth, who dusted himself off.

"Now what would you get out of fighting like that?" Mrs. Potts demanded. "We are all in the same predicament. We don't need any of that."

"She is right," Lumiere said to Cogsworth. "Fighting isn't going to solve anything, much less break the spell. Only the Master can fix this now."

"But why were we dragged into this whole spell business?" Cogsworth asked. "We didn't turn away that poor old beggar woman out on her ear!"

"No, but are we not responsible too?" Lumiere implied. "For helping to make him the way he is?"

"I suppose so. But how is the Master supposed to have some girl fall in love with him? Anyone would run screaming at the sight of him now! Especially with his temper!"

"We have only to hope that a girl will stumble upon the castle and fall in love with him somehow," Mrs. Potts said. "All before the last petal falls."

"Well I guess we have to stop hoping now," Cogsworth said, crossing his arms, "because _that's_ never going to happen."

No one said anything; he was probably right.

* * *

Babette was weeping in some room that she's probably not allowed to be in, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. No one would ever love her again.

Most people would think she was exaggerating. They would say how they loved what's inside a person, and it didn't matter how they looked on the outside. The only problem was all she had was her looks, based on what others have told her.

She never forgot the days when a man would realize how she wasn't a scholar and that she didn't seem to ever think deeply about anything, so they dumped her instead of vice versa, which was what usually happened.

She had became determined to prove them wrong by reading books and studying things like science on her own, but it hadn't feel right; those things didn't interest her. She couldn't compel herself to do it for long, so she had given up on it and had accepted the fact that she wasn't smart, but a bimbo who catches men by fluttering her eyelashes, puckering her lips, and swaying her hips.

Now her looks were gone, she was a mere cleaning tool with no limbs, only feathers.

Babette cried even more, sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

"Babette!" Lumiere called down a corridor. "Come out, _cherie_! Babette!"

The guilt in his heart had been too much to bear, so he had gone looking for her after a sleepless night.

He had wandered the castle for almost an hour, unsuccessful in finding the distressed maid.

Lumiere looked into a room. "Babette!"

Then he heard a sob from behind him. He turned around to see a door left slightly ajar. He approached it and listening closely; the sobbing was coming out of the room.

He put a candle stub up to the door and pushed it open enough so he could hop through.

The room was dark but Lumiere could make out that it was a bedroom. The only source of light was himself.

The crying was coming from behind a vanity.

"Lumiere! Is that you?"

Lumiere looked around to find the source of the voice.

"Up here _monsieur_!"

He looked up at the vanity but couldn't make anything out, so he climbed it using the knobs of the drawers. He came onto the top and looked around.

"Oh Lumiere, it _is_ you!"

"Michelle?"

"Yes!" The voice came from the top of the mirror. Lumiere saw an excited face, staring down at him.

"Ah, Michelle!" Lumiere exclaimed. "It's been too long!"

"Oh yes it has Lumiere! What happened? How did I become a vanity? I used to look so _fabulous_ if you remember."

"Well a woman placed a curse on the castle turning the Master into a…beast and the rest of us into objects for the Master's refusing to let her stay here for shelter." His tone became flirtatious and added, "And yes, I do remember you being one so stunning."

"Oh Lumiere!" If a vanity could blush, this one did. "You're so true of course, and you're the only one who would admit it that I had the appearance of a queen."

"Indeed _mademoiselle_. It's always a pleasure to be in your presence." He bowed courteously as if she were royalty.

Michelle giggled. "Oh Lumiere—"

Michelle stopped abruptly and looked beyond him at something on the floor.

Confused, Lumiere looked in the same direction to find a feather duster with eyes filled with tears.

"Babette! I've been looking all over for you!"

"_What_?!" Michelle cried. "You came to see _her_?! She's not even pretty! Especially with her eyes stained red! Ugh, such a pitiful sight!"

Babette looked at the vanity and then a Lumiere, eyes full of grief and accusation, and swept out of the room, sobbing more than before.

Lumiere felt horrible; he had forgotten about her as soon as he had seen Michelle.

"Babette! _Cherie_!" Lumiere called after her, hopping off of the vanity.

"Wait Lumiere! Don't leave me alone!"

Lumiere glanced back. "To tell you the truth Michelle, I did come in looking for her."

He walked out and closed the door behind him, remembering why he had stopped flirting with her; she's extremely jealous and clingy.

Babette had already escaped the corridor, for she was nowhere in sight.

Lumiere moved a stub of wax down his face in exasperation. He had been so close to comforting her. Now she probably hates him even more.

He continued his search for her again, calling her name repeatedly.

* * *

Babette flew around the corner, bawling hysterically. Was he doing this to her on purpose? What were his reasons for flirting with another in front of her in her state? To make her jealous?

Well he succeeded; she was now very jealous, along with angry, depressed, and ashamed.

She found a niche in a corridor with a statue of a scary gargoyle on a dais. She didn't recall any statues like these before. In fact, she remembered this specific hallway with statues of angels with folded wings. Was this part of the spell?

Babette hid behind it all the same, and went deeper into her sad thoughts of no more love.

* * *

Lumiere leaned against the wall of another corridor and slid down it, put out (literally) with exhaustion. That girl was great at hiding.

Suddenly, a roar came from the end of the hallway, making him jump; he must be by the West Wing. Crashing came from the room and Mrs. Potts sped out on her tea cart, stopping right in front of him.

"He's not ready for tea," Mrs. Potts stated.

"What is he doing in there?"

"He's destroying his own room in a rage. It's a terrible sight. Scared poor Chip half to death."

A tiny chipped teacup came into view from behind his mother. "We tried to calm him down, but it didn't work."

"Now now, luv," Mrs. Potts said to Chip. "He'll calm down eventually." She turned to Lumiere. "Speaking of calming down, how are you fairing with the poor maid?"

"Horribly," Lumiere replied sadly. "I've only made it worse."

"How did that happen?"

"She was in the same room when I happened upon Michelle."

"I see," Mrs. Potts nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. "That's unfortunate."

"Have you heard any crying in a room or…?"

"No, I haven't. I'm sorry, Lumiere."

"I heard someone crying!" Chip piped up.

"Do you remember where it was?"

"Yeah! It's downstairs in the hallway with statues! Come on, I'll show you!"

Chip was about to hop off the tea cart when his mother stopped him. "Why don't we just take the cart there."

"Oh. Right." Chip said, embarrassed at first but snapped out of it straight away. "Hop on!"

"Thank you, _mon ami_!" Lumiere jumped onto the cart and it instantly sped off. In a minute they had statues lining the walls.

The cart came to a halt.

"Didn't these statues used to be angels?" Lumiere asked Mrs. Potts.

"Yes. The spell changed the appearance of the castle too, making everything gloomy and depressing."

"What hasn't the spell changed?" Lumiere inquired rhetorically. He dropped to the ground and the tea cart hurried out of sight.

He immediately heard crying. It was coming from a statue a few feet away.

He crept up and poked a lit end of his hands to see Babette with her back against the dais.

Babette saw light out of the corner of her eye and suddenly felt warm; a candle was being held up to her face. She looked up at the source of it to see a relieved Lumiere.

She turned away and went around the dais so she no longer faced him.

"Why do you hide _cherie_?" Lumiere sounded thoroughly confused and exhausted.

Babette didn't respond but peeked around the dais to her left where he was before. He saw her and came toward her, but she ran around the dais again so he couldn't see her. This continued as they spoke.

"You are very good at this game, no?"

"Years of practice, _monsieur_, from love-sick men."

"Would I be a part of that category?" Lumiere asked lustfully.

She giggled, despite herself. "_Oui oui_!"

She turned to find him standing in front her. He swiftly dipped her.

Babette giggled even more.

"Your laughter is music to my ears," Lumiere said.

"Then you are my conductor, no?"

Lumiere laughed. "In that case, allow me to make a symphony, _mon amour_."

Babette giggled.

"Ah, how sweet the bells ring! Surely you've done this before?"

"Not with someone as practiced as yourself, _monsieur_!"

"Please, call me Lumiere."

"Lumiere…" Babette said sexily.

He laughed again. "_Cherie_…"

"Perhaps we could find a more private place."

"But of course, _mademoiselle_!" He lifted her out of her dip. "One more…romantic."

He guided her with a hand where the small of her back would have been down the corridor.

"But if the rest of the castle is like this hallway," Babette asked, "where would we find such a place?"

"Don't worry, _mon cherie_. I know the most romantic places around here, and they are impossible for any spell to change, I'm sure."

Babette somehow had no trouble in believing what he said. In fact, she hung onto every word. It's never been this easy to do so for anyone else.

"It's so convenient that you're so knowledgeable of the castle," Babette said. Wanting to only prolong their engagement, she added, "Perhaps you could show me that tour you had offered before."

"Of course. Whatever you like, _mademoiselle_."

Babette laughed coyly.

"And so my symphony continues," Lumiere said with a debonair smile.

She giggled yet again.

"If only you were laughing when I found you," he continued. "It made my heart break to see you in tears."

"I was only returning the gesture." Babette turned away.

"I meant no harm to you, _cherie_," he insisted.

"Well you caused harm to me anyway. Especially the way you were bantering with the vanity. I know you heard me crying in the room!"

"Oh but she is simply jealous of the fact that I was looking for you, _mon amour_."

"She wasn't jealous until she saw me!"

"Oh _contraire, mademoiselle_," Lumiere said, smiling in amusement. "She has always been jealous of every woman in contact with me. Even Mrs. Potts!"

"The woman who serves tea?"

"The very same. Besides, I shut the door on Michelle years ago!"

"If you did, then why were you agreeing with her that she looks like a queen?"

"Because it is true," Lumiere said.

"Ugh!" Babette cried indignantly, and swept away.

"Babette, my love!" Lumiere began to follow her but decided differently.

She wants him to chase her. In most circumstances, he would with pleasure. But if he lets her leave, she realizes he's not following her. She becomes perplexed and thinks he doesn't want her, then comes back to make sure that doesn't happen.

If he doesn't understand the philosophy of women, then the Master is as well-tempered as a household pet.

He smirked to himself and wandered in the opposite direction as Babette. She'll be back sooner or later.


	3. Intermission

Babette swept furiously down a corridor away from Lumiere.

She had given in too easily. Much too easily. She had had a strategy all planned out after seeing him flirt with the vanity: she would keep hiding from him until he apologized for his bantering.

But upon seeing how relieved he looked when he had found her, upon hearing how exhausted he sounded when she had hid away from him, that plan had been forgotten. After that everything had been done on a whim, with what first came to mind.

Babette couldn't give in that easily anymore; it makes men lose interest if they see her all the time and if she shows too much interest in them. That's why she's been resistant to all the men she's had relationships with; so they stay entranced by her.

The thing was, Lumiere was different, which made him all the more fascinating. He was more like her than anyone else she's met, but these similarities will lead to more harm than good. They both enjoy having a variety of persons to go to for a banter, though that might not mean anything to us flirters, it would mean something to who we're flirting with or who's witnessing it like herself, hence why she ran out after seeing him flirt with the vanity.

Babette realized that she wanted Lumiere for herself, and she couldn't understand how this happened. It wasn't supposed to happen. She was the girl no man could have, no matter how hard they tried. Lumiere had barely tried and had swept her off her feet. She had only just met him yesterday and somehow she wanted to turn and run back to him.

But she knew that what she had done was the right thing. He needed to learn that she's not as easy as she let on.

Her goal now was to make him want her more by playing hard-to-get, and Babette knew just the thing. It would perhaps clear her head of these thoughts of wanting Lumiere for herself and make him fill with envy in the process.

Babette swept away with renewed vigor, knowing her plan will work efficiently.

* * *

Lumiere wandered aimlessly around the castle, wrapped in his thoughts.

He was expecting Babette to come running back to him almost instantly.

How did she end up surprising him? He was so good at predicting what women will do.

It's been days since he's seen her around, and he wondered if he had lost her interest.

Well, he couldn't have. She's displayed so much appeal in him already. But he also showed a strong liking to her in return.

And he couldn't have lied to her about the incident with the vanity. He knew lying to her would be a disaster. She had to know anyway that he's not one to be attached to one girl, at least not for long. But he has a feeling she's not that type of girl either; he could tell by the way she went along with what he said.

He tried to recall what he could've done wrong that could have possibly made her avoid him all these days, but nothing came to mind.

What if she happened upon another man?

Impossible. He has seen no other servants roaming around. Except for Cogsworth, but he's about as interesting as a sack of potatoes.

What if she swept into a room that had a male servant in there--?

It disturbed him to find himself thinking this way. He shook his head. These thoughts were preposterous. It's highly unlikely that Babette's met anyone. And she wouldn't be _avoiding _him. This castle is huge. She could be having trouble finding him.

He looked up to find himself by the kitchen. He hadn't come by here since…well, since he was turned into a candelabra.

When there were guests in the castle, he would always be in and out of the kitchen at dinner time, making sure the food was perfect and the guests were more than satisfied.

This castle had always been bustling in the evenings, and now it felt so strange to not have any visitors. It's almost as if there's a barrier preventing anyone from the outside world to draw near. And it's all because of this spell.

This curse...

Lumiere sighed. He turned to leave.

Then he heard a giggle.

He looked at the doors, listening closely. That couldn't be…

Another flirty laugh.

Lumiere had to investigate. He pushed open the kitchen door and gasped.

"Babette!"

Babette was on the counter. A drawer was open by her, and she was dangerously close to a wine bottle opener; A sommelier knife.

The knife spun on its corkscrew and its face grew furious. "_Lumiere_."

"Jacques," Lumiere responded with severe distaste.

* * *

When Babette was looking for someone worth flirting with, she wanted to look in the kitchen. But it had to be the right time; he had to be wandering by when she started to flirt. So Babette had followed Lumiere around, staying hidden for days, until he was finally heading towards the kitchen. Then she put her plan into action.

She had swept in as a drawer began to rattle furiously, like it held some trapped creature. She had hopped onto an upturned bucket, a floor cupboard, and then the counter to get a better look. As she did so, the drawer finally burst open. A sommelier knife had jumped out and landed acrobatically on the counter with gusto.

"Ha ha!" he said, his accent extremely French. "I 'ave escaped!"

He then immediately saw Babette and his eyes alighted with interest.

"Ho ho, _magnifique_! A beautiful _mademoiselle_ 'as come for a visit!"

He hopped over and bowed as best he could in his form. "_Je m'appelle_ Jacques, _mademoiselle_. I 'aven't met you yet, but I'd like to."

He grinned widely with an aura of arrogance, like he expected her to immediately start swooning over him.

He was definitely not the type she liked to exchange banters with but he would have to do.

But she didn't know Jacques and Lumiere would be archenemies.

Babette observed the scene with dread as Lumiere and Jacques stared at each other with pure hate. The fire on Lumiere's wicks grew larger and hotter from his anger.

"You should have stayed in your drawer, Jacques!" Lumiere said.

"And let you wander freely while I'm trapped in an enclosed space?! Never!"

"I didn't even know you could fit in there; your ego's much too big!"

"You dare say this?! You should not be talking! Strutting around like you were a king because you were maitre d'! _I _deserved that job, and you know it!"

"Oh boo hoo," Lumiere mocked and smirked. "Would you like some cheese with that whine?"

Jacques shook with fury. "You know how much I _hate_ that stupid joke!"

He jumped down from the counter and charged at Lumiere. Lumiere held his wicks at ready.

Babette couldn't take it anymore. "Stop! Stop it!"

They kept fighting: Lumiere threw fire while Jacques stabbed shouting, "Engarde!"

Babette jumped off the counter and landed with an "Oof!" She shook out of it and ran towards them, crying, "Lumiere! Stop!"

Before Lumiere could punch Jacques, she flew in front of him, her eyes silently pleading.

Jacques took a stab meant for Lumiere but he poked her mass of feathers instead, making her jump into the air.

"Ah!" came her shrill cry.

Lumiere caught her easily in his arms. She was about to smile and use her flirtatious charm, but his solemn look stopped her.

He set her down gently and marched out without a word.

"Lumiere!" Babette called out in desperation, ashamed. She followed after him.

"_Mademoiselle_!" Jacques cried as the door slammed, but Babette ignored him.

"Lumiere, please!" she called again. "Please wait!"

She caught up and stopped right in front of him.

"Lumiere, I'm sorry. I never intended things to get out of hand—"

"Out of all the men in the castle, you chose _him_ to make me jealous."

"I—He was the first one to pop out and—" She stopped herself, perplexed. "How did you know I wanted to make you jealous?"

"Please, _cherie_," he said tiredly, as if he's explained this before. "I've had plenty of experience with women such as yourself. Why else would you have continued flirting with him?"

She laughed. "Of course. I should have known it was too easy for you."

"Oh but you succeeded," he said, smiling and inched closer. "It filled me with _envy_ to see you with another man."

"Then you need to keep me interested so I don't stray again." Babette ran a few feet and stopped to look back.

"We can't let that happen can we?" And Lumiere chased Babette up the grand staircase.

Babette glanced back at the top and fled toward to the eastern part of the castle, giggling.

She ran around a corner and ducked behind the curtains of a window.

Lumiere skidded to a halt as he turned the corner, looking around. He spotted a lump in a curtain, and went to it slowly, saying, "Now where could she possibly have gone?"

Babette stifled a laugh.

Lumiere approached her hiding spot. "Hm, what could be behind curtain number one?"

"Lumiere?"

Cogsworth came to the intersecting hallways, glanced left and right frantically, spotted Lumiere and ran toward him. "Lumiere, do you have a word?"

"No," Lumiere replied, agitated.

"Good, good," Cogsworth said, distracted. He kept looking around as if to make sure no one was watching. "I, um, need your…advice on something."

He had kept his eyes averted when saying this and had muttered it, afraid to be overheard.

"Now?" Lumiere asked.

"Well it's only that I wanted to ask you when no one was around and no one's around now—"

"Alright, alright, just spit it out!"

"Yes, yes, well you know Madame de la Grand Bouche correct? The Keeper of the Wardrobe?"

"The tailor?"

"Yes, you're familiar with her?"

"What about her?"

Cogsworth looked slightly uncomfortable. "I—Well, I meant to—to confront her about…us…" He pointed to himself and in the general direction of Madame de la Grand Bouche.

Lumiere, finally understanding Cogsworth's hesitancy, smiled. "Oh! You want to ask her on a date, yes?"

Cogsworth blushed. "Well, um, yes. I do."

"Well then ask her!"

Cogsworth shook his head. "But—but I can't now!"

"Why not?"

"I meant to confront her before we all…" He indicated his form.

Lumiere looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to make the point.

"And we're both too different in appearance…"

"So?"

Cogsworth looked confused. "Don't you—Haven't you seen what she's turned into?"

"How does this relate to the problem?"

"It relates because the problem is that I'm a mantle clock and she's a—a wardrobe!" He let this out like he'd been holding it in for a long time.

"Oh."

Cogsworth became frantic again: "What do I do? How do I ask her?"

Lumiere laughed. "Cogsworth, you're over-thinking this! It doesn't matter if she is ten times the size of you! Go confront her! If you like her and she likes you, there shouldn't be a problem!"

"But—But how do I approach her? What do I say?"

"Compliment her! Flatter her! Treat her like royalty! And use that charm I know you have locked away! It will all come naturally soon enough!"

"You're sure about this?"

"Of course, _mon ami_! I've never been wrong about this sort of thing."

"Well…alright."

"So what are you waiting for? Go ask her!" Lumiere turned Cogsworth around and gave him a push.

Cogsworth took a couple reluctant steps, but swung back around. "I—I can't!"

"Of course you can! Now go!" Lumiere was starting to get impatient with him: He repeated his push.

"No!" Cogsworth said, facing Lumiere again. "I—I think I need some…some moral support."

"Cogsworth you're acting like a child!" Lumiere said outright. This was getting ridiculous. "You can run the castle thoroughly and make sure everyone's doing their jobs, but you can't ask a woman to dinner!"

"Please, Lumiere!" Cogsworth pleaded. Then his expression turned threatening. "You owe me this much, you know!"

"What are you talking about? I owe you nothing!"

"Yes you do! I always get blamed by the Master for your mistakes!"

"Oh. And how often has _that_ happened?" Lumiere asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Well you haven't repaid me for those few times you _have_ slipped up, and now is the perfect time for you to do so!"

Lumiere breathed angrily. "Fine, fine! But once you start talking to her, I'm gone!"

"It's a deal. Let's shake on it."

They shook hands, but Cogsworth got burnt by Lumiere's wicks and yelped. He blew on his hand frantically while Lumiere smirked.

"Let's just go!" Cogsworth huffed after his hand had cooled down. He walked alongside Lumiere but kept his distance as not to be burnt again.

* * *

Babette had remained immobile the entire time Lumiere and Cogsworth talked. She had become very stiff, despite the fact that she was a feather duster.

Now she had gotten stiff, and _stiffed_ for nothing, for Lumiere had just left her sitting behind a curtain.

She swept out into the hallway and stared angrily down at the two walking away.

Unbelievable! Did he just forget about her?

At that moment, Lumiere glanced back and gave a quick wink and smile.

No. He didn't forget about her.

Babette tried to talk through her eyes before he looked away.

Lumiere seemed to understand; he nodded.

She walked in the opposite direction, satisfied. This little interruption didn't matter. It was more like an intermission, and they've actually become part of the routine. They've made things more interesting—more fun—somehow.

Before he had looked away, she had said with her eyes, "I'll be waiting."


	4. Testing

Hmm…Where should she wait…?

Babette wandered around the castle, looking for a good place to wait for Lumiere. It needed be a romantic place. A place that was enchanting…

While she was sweeping down a corridor, she happened to glance outside as she passed a window.

She stopped in her tracks and stared at the sky.

It was nighttime, and for the first time in weeks the stars were out from behind those dreaded storm clouds that had hovered over the castle since that enchantress placed the spell.

She swept closer to the window to get a better view at the grounds below.

The gardens were still in pretty good condition: The grass was still green, the bushes in the maze had barely thinned, and the flowers still bloomed. The caretakers who had been turned into shovels, rakes, wheelbarrows and watering cans had been trying to keep it in the best condition possible in their state—and they probably had nothing else to do.

There were also fountains with statues spewing water into a pool surrounding them, all looking clean and freshly scrubbed.

The entire area was not like it was before, but it still held most of its former beauty.

Immediately, Babette knew where she wanted to wait. She flew down the corridor towards the southern back entrance.

But on the way, she heard terrible sobbing. She stopped to find where it was coming from and found she was at the maids' room.

She hadn't passed by this room in weeks, and she decided to take a peek inside to see what the other maids could possibly be sobbing about.

Babette pushed open the door to see a whole group of feather dusters huddled in the middle of the room, where there weren't any beds in the way. The only light in the room was coming from the partially open door from the moon shining from a window right across from it. Babette's shadow stretched across the floor.

The group of maids turned around to face her. One cried in anguish, "Shut the door! We want no one to see our pitiful forms!"

"What are all of you doing sitting here in the dark?" Babette asked, ignoring the plea.

"Who is that?" a feather duster asked the group.

"I don't know," another answered.

"It's that _new_ maid." The group opened to let a tall feather duster with a fancily engraved handle through. She looked down at Babette through square spectacles with what would've been a wrinkled nose, like she smelled something rotten. "_Babette."_

She pronounced her name with absolute disdain.

"Madame Margaux," Babette addressed, trying to keep her voice level.

Mme. Margaux didn't like Babette because she's never seen her clean anything. Babette did clean some things here while she had been human—which had only been for two days—but because Mme. Margaux didn't _see _with her own eyes that Babette indeed did some dusting, she had a grudge on her, and Babette just had to deal with it, much to her displeasure.

In Babette's eyes, Mme. Margaux was nothing more than a strict, bothersome head maid that should be a librarian, for she did this annoying "_Sssh!_" when she wanted quiet.

"Why haven't you come back to these quarters at night?" Mme. Margaux interrogated. "Every maid is to come back here at 8:00 for a good night's rest! You haven't been here in weeks! And I bet you didn't clean _one spot_!"

"Have you not noticed that we are all feather dusters?!" Babette cried, her feathers ruffling. "No one from outside has entered since that witch cast the curse on this place! There isn't a need to clean anymore! And what have you all been doing? Sitting here crying your eyes out? You haven't been cleaning either!"

"_Sssh!_" Mme. Margaux hissed.

"No! I will not _'Sssh!'"_ Babette imitated, her temper rising. "Do not criticize me when you won't even come out to see the light of day!"

Babette faced the other maids and spoke gently to them. "There is no need to hide in here in the dark. None of you look terrible, I promise you. Everyone else here has also been turned into objects, and they do not look horrible at all. Merely different."

The maids made uncertain glances at each other and to Mme. Margaux, who shook her head to them.

"Do not listen to her!" Babette said. "You can come out of this cramped closet—I mean room." Babette hoped they didn't think she meant "coming out of the closet".

"Did you hear her?" Mme. Margaux said. "She just called you all 'queer!'"

"No no no! I didn't mean it that way! I only—"

"_Sssh!_" Mme. Margaux interrupted. "You've made your meaning quite clear on how you think of us!"

"What?! Now do you really think I meant that?"

The maids were in tears again. One cried, "Leave us alone!"

"Fine!" Babette said angrily, swept to the door. "While you wallow in self-pity, I'm going to meet a certain _monsieur_ in a nice romantic place outside." She glanced back; she was trying to spark someone's curiosity.

The maids immediately snapped out of their sorrow and gasped in wonder. "Who? Who?"

Maids: they always need the latest gossip.

"Hm…I don't think any of you would want to know, since you're too busy sobbing—"

"We're not sobbing!"

"Not at all!"

They crowded around her with eager expressions.

"Who are you meeting?"

"Do you _really_ want to know?" Babette said.

"Yes! Yes!"

"Who?"

Babette shrugged only for show. "Oh, it's only Monsieur Lumiere—"

"_Really_?!"

"How did you catch _his_ attention--?"

"Is it a date?"

"You could say that," Babette said.

The maids squeaked in excitement.

"Lucky—"

"Where are you meeting?"

"I was planning on waiting for him outside in the gardens—" Babette said.

"In the moonlight?"

"Oh how romantic!"

"When?"

"It could be anytime," Babette said indifferently, still acting like this wasn't a big deal, even though in her mind—and the maids'—this was definitely huge and exciting. "So you'll have to watch from the windows to be sure you don't miss anything—"

"Great idea!"

"Let's go!"

The maids rushed past Babette to the windows to find a good view of the gardens.

Babette smiled; she got the maids out of the room, which had been her goal in the first place.

She turned to leave but Mme. Margaux said from behind her. "Yes, go slack off some more with the maitre d'. It's a good excuse for _not_ cleaning."

Babette wished she had arms to shut the door in that annoying woman's face. Alas, she could only huff away toward the gardens.

Despite the fact that she had gotten the maids out of that closet, she had lost pure privacy with Lumiere. Hopefully, he won't find out that they'll be being watched by the gossiping maids.

Well she'll forget all about them anyway when she spots Lumiere.

She couldn't help but smile as she continued on her way to the gardens.

* * *

Lumiere wished she could've said _where_ she'll be waiting.

But of course Cogsworth had to drag him away from Babette for his own childish reasons.

Cogsworth would've done fine on his own without Lumiere. He just needed the courage to walk into the room and let himself be known. Glad Madame de la Grand Bouche's feelings were mutual; she had had the same problem.

Despite what Lumiere had said about leaving when they started to speak, he had to watch from the doorway, all the while being hidden.

Cogsworth stuttered the first few minutes, making absolutely no sense. Thank God Madame de la Grand Bouche understood and began to speak, or that could've been disastrous. She _was_ the one for chit-chat.

Lumiere has never seen Cogsworth as happy and relaxed as he was just talking (well, mostly listening) to the wardrobe. He was almost unrecognizable; he's always so tightly wound!

Lumiere had left them to their privacy, and began roaming the enchanted hallways of the castle for his own date.

He turned a corner to find a bunch of feather dusters looking out from the windows lining the south wall of the corridor, all with anticipating faces.

"Ah, the maids have emerged!" Lumiere exclaimed.

They all turned at once and smiled widely, bursting into chatter.

He heard one cry "Babette" and called them to order. "Ladies, _s'il vous plait_! I cannot understand you! What about Babette?"

One maid spoke up: "She is waiting for you outside in the gardens!"

"Hurry!"

"Go meet her!"

He hurried to the end of the corridor away from the maids; he just wanted to stop making them rush him.

They continued to cry urging shouts until he was out of sight around the corner. He hopped briskly to the southern entrance, and wondered what she could possibly have in store for him waiting beyond the garden gates.

* * *

Babette picked a spot by a lavish three-story fountain with red rose bushes and tender white lilies blooming around the surrounding area, filling the air with a pleasantly intoxicating scent.

She sat on the rim of the fountain looked up the full moon and the glistening stars encircling it. Oh how perfect this night is!

She glanced at the water, the moon's shine reflecting off of it.

As she turned away, she caught her own reflection in the fountain's water and stared.

She had said to the maids that they look merely different, but she realized she had quoted Lumiere; he had said that in an attempt to calm her of her former distress when they had just been turned into objects.

As she looked at her reflection, she realized he was right. She had only changed in her form, but her face and eyes were still the same. She still had her long thick lashes, her plump ruby red lips, and her brown velvet eyes with that same lustrous sparkle she used to catch any man passing her by.

She had been so distracted with her reflection and thoughts, she hadn't noticed Lumiere until his reflection appeared by her own.

"Such a beautiful _mademoiselle_ is shown in the water's reflection, no?" He looked at Babette's eyes in her reflection.

Babette only made a quick small smile without taking her eyes off her own reflection, before going back to her brooding expression.

"You are not still thinking you look like a monstrosity, are you?" He sounded concerned and looked it in his reflection.

Babette looked up from her reflection at him with a sincere smile. "No. Not anymore."

"Wonderful!" he said, smiling and settling down next to her. He provided a warming glow in the dim moonlight. "What made you change your mind? Not that I'm complaining of course."

"I stumbled upon the maids' room before coming out here, and they were all crying still about how ugly they thought they were, when they really didn't look bad at all. It helped me realize that you were right about that."

"I know a beautiful woman when I see one, _cherie_, and you are no exception. I'm so glad that those thoughts no longer fill your precious head."

"Me too; they were probably taking up too much space," Babette said with dark humor.

"What could that possibly mean?" Lumiere asked, frustrated.

"Exactly what I said: My head does not have enough room to hold much. I'm not a scholar after all."

"That does not mean you are not intelligent!" he insisted. "Why are thinking such things?"

"Many people, mostly men, have rejected me because I never seemed to think deeply about anything. I took these accusations to heart and tried to fix my lacking knowledge, but I couldn't compel myself to keep my nose in books and study these sciences and things. It was confusing and, well, boring! They didn't interest me. So I accepted the fact that I am only a wench."

"Do not talk of yourself in this way!" he cried. "You are so much more than that. Babette, look at me!"

Babette kept her gaze averted so Lumiere turned her head to face him.

"You should not judge yourself by what other people think of you. By what you're telling me, they never bothered to look farther than your fair façade. You are just as beautiful on the inside as the outside. Do not let anyone tell you different." He smiled. "And for your information, you are more to _me_ than a mere silly girl."

Her heart contracted as she heard his words. Never has anyone called her beautiful on the inside. She was only a pretty face, a beauty for mere show, never an enthralling person to talk to, to listen to, for she seemed to lack depth.

She felt like he had just released her from the prison of her own mind. Weight fell of shoulders and she felt light. Her heart fluttered at the seeming sincerity of what he said.

The glorious feeling made her smile with a sense of relief and joy and her eyes fill with tears. She looked away to blink them back, hoping he hadn't noticed them.

He looked around at their romantic atmosphere. "You picked a wonderful place to meet, I must say. And when the moon and stars have finally come out. I'm impressed."

Babette giggled. "_Merci, monsieur_."

Lumiere looked at her with a knowing smile. "I'm sure the maids are enjoying the view also."

Babette blushed. "Well—you see—it was the only way to stop them from mourning—" Lumiere raised an eyebrow, amused at her attempt to explain, "—because I knew that they couldn't resist a piece of juicy gossip so—"

"You told them we were meeting here," he finished.

"Yes," she said, still embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that. I hoped you wouldn't find out…"

"I do not mind, _cherie_," he said with a slight laugh. "They can't hear what we are saying. Besides, most of them would have gotten bored by now."

"Why?"

"Isn't it simple?" he asked, his laughter growing. "They are waiting for us to kiss."

"Oh!" Babette was taken aback and blushed more furiously than before; she didn't even guess they had been waiting for _that_.

He caught her reaction. "Being a maid yourself, I would have expected you knew that also."

"I was only a maid for two days here before I was changed! I had no time to learn their habits." Her tone became slightly accusatory. "I expect you know them well enough though."

He spoke carelessly. "Of course I do. I've been here for years. And maids are easy to figure out."

Babette fired up. "Excuse me?!"

Lumiere realized with a shock that Babette was in that category and tried to correct his wrong. "But not you, _mademoiselle_! You are not like the others!"

"I will not be judged by my occupation, Lumiere!" she cried as she straightened up to tower over him. "I am not an open book you can simply read out loud!"

He stood up also. "_Cherie_, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean?"

"I merely meant the _other_ maids are easy to read, only because…well, they aren't very bright—like you, _mon amour_," he added quickly with his charm, putting an arm around her.

Babette couldn't resist giving in; she looked to him, lashes fluttering, with a smile playing upon her lips. "Really?"

"_Oui, mademoiselle_," he said with a handsome smile. "You shine brighter than the stars hung over us tonight. No one can hold a candle to your brilliance."

"Except you, _monsieur_," she said lasciviously.

"I was hoping you would say that."

"But surely you knew that already."

"That you are the most exquisite woman I have ever had the pleasure of stumbling onto? Of course I knew, _mademoiselle_."

Babette laughed coyly. "That was not quite the answer I was expecting."

"Expect more to come, _mon amour_, for compliments slip from the tongue so easily."

"And why is that?"

"Because they are so true."

"Oh, Lumiere!" she said, giggling. "Your words make me feel so light!"

"As a feather?" he asked. "I am sure."

She laughed. "I didn't know you were so clever, Lumiere!"

"Is it enough, though, to keep your interest?"

"Perhaps…" She swept out of his grasp and glanced back tauntingly. "But do I have yours?"

He turned a shoulder to her and crossed his arms with eyes silently daring her. "Possibly."

She moved slowly away around the rim of the rectangular pool, and thought out loud, "I wonder…"

She was a quarter ways around the fountain and he didn't move, only smirked. "Can he resist the temptation?"

She was on the complete opposite side from him and she peeked around the tower in the fountain, calling provokingly, "You know you want to follow…"

Lumiere turned his head to the side so she could just see he was smiling confidently. "I am stronger than you think, _mademoiselle_."

"Oh yes, _monsieur_!" Babette said, impressed. "The stronger the better."

She hopped off the rim of the fountain and began gliding toward the castle doors, still taunting. "Perhaps an escort will show so I am not alone wandering the castle. Unless…" She glanced back at the unmoving candelabra. "There is someone present to make sure I'm not lonely."

She sighed when he still didn't move. "Oh well."

She swept away up the steps to the doors, which opened automatically for her. She took one glance back to make sure he hadn't moved and slipped into the castle, smiling happily to herself.

To be certain, she swept to the maids' room corridor where the windows had the view of the gardens.

He had been right again, for the maids had indeed gotten bored; there was no one else in the hallway except herself.

She swept to the window and peered down at the fountain.

Lumiere was still there.

Babette smiled even more to herself; he had passed her test. He had enough endurance to not give in to her taunts. It is now without a doubt he will not be following her around and clinging to her. She had already had that suspicion, but she had to be certain.

She had used this test every time she had a special kind of interest in a man. They had all failed, though some not as much as others. Lumiere was the first one to pass with flying colors.

Another thing was that it seemed he knew exactly what she was doing, like he's done it before, though she couldn't think how he could've faced a test that she came up with herself before, much more how he had figured out she had been testing him.

Maybe she _was_ easy to figure out. But he seemed to be enjoying himself while she was flirtatiously taunting him; she had enjoyed herself also.

Babette looked up the sky to look over the moon and the stars dotting the sky, and she wished it could always be this beautiful.

Her wishes were dashed as she saw in the distance dark storm clouds. They seemed a few miles away. She prayed silently they didn't come over the castle and were heading in another direction.

She glanced one more time at the golden light below that was Lumiere and swept away for a night of rest.


	5. The Storm

_BOOM! CRASH!_

Babette woke right up in a fright at the sudden deafening noise. A loud rapid pounding beat against the roof and stone of the castle. Rain beat down noisily on the window.

_BOOM! _

She glanced at the window from a bed much too big for her feather duster form.

A blinding light flashed across the window.

_CRACKLE!_

The sound reverberated through her entire being. Babette ducked under the sheets of the bed in terror.

She _hated_ thunderstorms.

They scared her to death, for one, because of all the ruckus they made. And they always came at the most inconvenient times, like now in the middle of the night when she's trying to sleep.

The reason that bothered her most of all was that she couldn't be alone during a thunderstorm. Being around someone comforts her somehow. Also, storms made her feel terribly small and insignificant, and now that she was only a fifth of her former size, the feeling was worse than ever.

_BOOM!_

She could see the lightening flash from under the covers.

_CRASH!_

After a moment of no thunder, Babette gathered some courage to hop off the bed and creep to the window for a better look at this storm.

These clouds were a dense black and deep purple. It was even darker with it being nighttime. Wind wiped the rain in a multitude of directions, making a thick curtain of rain so she couldn't see anything beyond it.

She had to go look for someone—anyone—to endure this terrifying storm with.

She ran to the bedroom door and pushed it open with all her might. She looked down the hallway both ways frantically.

She moaned; no one was in the corridor.

She rushed down the corridors and turned corners in a desperate attempt to be certain she's not the only one here. Every time thunder boomed and lightening crackled, she ducked behind a curtain of a window or a tapestry hanging on the wall.

Finally, Babette heard some yelling in the corridor ahead. She hurried and turned left where the voices were coming from to be blown backwards by a strong wind coming from the end of the hallway.

She tumbled and rolled to a stop. She glanced up to see a window had burst open and was now beating the walls with heavy force constantly. The curtains wiped hard and were tearing from its place above the window. The wind was blowing the frames and tapestries on the walls so they rattled and swayed, always in danger of falling down. The carpet and walls were becoming sopping wet from the rain.

And a collection of objects were desperately trying to shut the window.

* * *

This was all Cogsworth's fault.

After Babette had left him out in the gardens, Lumiere had stayed outside for a while longer.

He had known it had been a test of course, and she would be checking on him from the windows to make sure he hadn't moved.

He didn't see why that test of hers was needed, for he thought he had made it clear through his actions that he's not attached to one particular girl. One of the reasons he's been flirting with her for a long while was because he hasn't seen any other girl around since Michelle. And it was quite fun to be around her, for she ends up surprising him most times—which almost never happens.

While counting out the minutes in his head, he noticed storm clouds in the distance. He had to inform Cogsworth that they were approaching, for these looked potentially dangerous.

Being major domo, Cogsworth gives the orders when the Master isn't—and the Master is in no state to give any at this time.

Lumiere informed him that a storm was approaching and Cogsworth ordered everyone to make sure the windows were locked and the doors were barred, as was standard storm procedure, in case a wind might blow them open, allowing rain to wreck the interior of the castle.

Turns out, this was a particularly nasty storm; it was practically a monsoon.

Cogsworth had said they checked—even double-checked—all the windows to be certain they were locked.

But one wasn't.

Mrs. Potts had been woken up by loud frequent banging in her corridor and had gotten on her tea cart to report to anyone she could find that the storm was wrecking havoc in the eastern corridor through a window left unlocked.

Now Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and some other servants were trying in a futile attempt to close the window.

"_Mon Dieu_!" Lumiere cried as he was thrown back from the swinging door of the window that he had been clinging to. "Every time we even get close to locking it again, a new wind blows through!"

"We have to keep trying!" Mrs. Potts shouted over the wind from the top of her tea cart pressing its weight on the other door of the window.

Cogsworth wasn't doing much; just running in circles crying, "Oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear!"

"Quit blubbering Cogsworth and help!" Lumiere commanded angrily as he and some servants-turned-brooms pushed on a window door against the wind. "It's your own fault that this happened!"

Cogsworth immediately came to a halt to glare furiously at Lumiere. "My fault?! _My_ fault?!"

"Yes! You checked all the windows yourself—"

"And what if I didn't check the other windows?! There'd be more carnage from open windows than this—"

"Stop your fighting!" Mrs. Potts cried angrily. "I swear! You two pick the _worst_ times to start bickering to each other! Both of you help us shut this window! Cogsworth, come up here and lock the window when they get the other door over here!"

"Yes yes, of course!" was Cogsworth's only reply as he struggled onto the tea cart and pushed with Mrs. Potts against the door.

"This isn't working!" Lumiere said after a moment of failed attempts to shut the other door of the window. "We are too light! We need someone bigger to close it!"

"Wait!" Cogsworth said, an idea dawning quickly to him. "Get Madame de la Grand Bouche! She could shut the door!"

"We are a little busy at the moment!" Lumiere replied, sarcasm slipping out of him automatically.

Suddenly, a shrill cry came from the corridor that was being soaked by the raining pouring in through open window. Lumiere glanced down it to see a feather duster lying on the ground.

"Babette!" he cried.

"Lumiere!" she shouted back. "What happened--?"

"No time to explain!" he said speedily. "Get Madame de la Grand Bouche!"

"_Who_?" she said, utterly confused.

"She's a wardrobe who's in the northeastern part of the corridor! Tell her we need her help! Hurry!"

"If I can get up without blown like a flag!" she said more to herself than them. "Curse my form!"

But Babette was able to run against the wind to the corridor she came from.

Northeastern...yes, it's the way she came.

They were all counting on her, especially Lumiere, and that compelled her to run faster.

She got to the end of the corridor and turned right towards the corner of the castle. She heaved at the bedroom door there and saw the wardrobe.

"Oh hello!" the wardrobe greeted. "Finally! I've been wondering what that darn banging is! I can't sleep with it! Do you know what's going on?"

"_Oui_," Babette replied quickly. "A window has broken open and the storm is blowing through it and the others can't close it! They need your help."

"Oh I see! Take me to them. I'll be glad to help!"

Babette pushed the door all the way open for the wardrobe to waddle heavily through.

"My my, that is a problem!" the wardrobe commented as she saw down the long corridor the struggling objects, and she hurried toward them with Babette right behind.

As they approached the other objects, Cogsworth turned his head to them while he pressed his hands against the window and his face lit up at the sight of the wardrobe. "Ah yes, my dear! Could you please push the other door?" He waved one hand to his right in indication. "We're having some difficulty with it."

"_Some _difficulty," Lumiere muttered at the absurd description of their troubles. Cogsworth ignored him.

"Of course, Cogsworth!" the wardrobe replied happily.

Lumiere and the others moved as she came to the other side of the tea cart and pushed with her back against the window. It looked almost effortless to her; the window closed easily as if there was no heavy wind and rain blowing through.

Cogsworth locked it as soon as it closed. The rain beat on the window and the wind muffled instantly. The curtains lay as before: hanging against the wall peacefully.

Everyone breathed in relief except the wardrobe, who didn't seem affected at all by what just occurred.

"Thank you, thank you Madame," Cogsworth said, smiling to the wardrobe. "That was so gracious of you to help us at this time of night."

"Oh I was awake anyway!" the wardrobe said dismissively, blushing at the praise.

Cogsworth turned to the other nameless servants and waved at them. "Good job everyone. Now off to bed." And they did so.

"Ah Babette!" Lumiere said as he spotted her beside herself, and he came over to her. "Thank you for fetching her for us. You did us a great service."

"I was only doing as I was told," Babette replied, blushing like the wardrobe.

"Yes, thank you dear," Mrs. Potts said from her perch on the tea cart.

Remembering to introduce them, Lumiere said, "Babette, Mrs. Potts. Mrs. Potts, this is Babette."

"Oh yes!" Mrs. Potts said. "This is the maid you've been talking about." Mrs. Potts did a slight bow to Babette. "Wonderful to meet you at last, dearie."

"A pleasure, _madame_," Babette replied with a polite smile and a sort of curtsy.

"Ahem-hem." Cogsworth looked down from the tea cart expectantly at Lumiere for his introduction.

"Oh. Right," Lumiere said carelessly, like he purposely left Cogsworth unaddressed. "And this is Cogsworth."

Cogsworth lowered himself down from the tea cart and landed not so gracefully on his buttocks. Babette couldn't help but giggle slightly at the clock.

After he brushed himself off, Cogsworth bowed to Babette professionally. "Pleasure, _mademoiselle_."

"Same," Babette said as she curtsied again.

_BOOM!_ _CRASH!_

Babette gave a small cry and cuddled by Lumiere, who was slightly taken aback but definitely not displeased.

Babette looked up as the thunder died, realized she was really close to Lumiere and took a couple steps back, blushing furiously and looking down in embarrassment.

"I'm guessing you do not like thunder storms?" Lumiere asked her, amused at her disconcertment.

Babette could only shake her head.

"Aw poor dear," Mrs. Potts said, face full of understanding. "Don't worry. You're safe from harm."

Babette silently nodded.

"Don't be embarrassed, _cherie_," Lumiere comforted, still smiling at her discomfort. "We don't think of you any less because you are scared of storms."

"Everyone has fears, dear," Mrs. Potts comforted also. "Even the bravest of us."

_BOOM! CRACKLE!_

Babette kept her place this time but closed her eyes tightly and shivered.

"You should get to bed, dearie," Mrs. Potts said and addressed everyone else. "We should all get to bed. I need to make sure Chip didn't wake up and go wandering around."

She sped off on her tea cart while the wardrobe went back to the bedroom after saying goodnight to Cogsworth. He went in the opposite direction, looking particularly pleased.

"Come, _mademoiselle_," Lumiere said to Babette, putting an arm around her. "I'll escort you to your room tonight."

"Thank you, Lumiere," Babette said gratefully as they began walking back to her room.

"So," he began after a pause, "what were you doing roaming the castle this late at night?"

"I do not want to say," she replied, blushing again.

"Come now! I won't laugh."

"Yes you will. You think it's funny when I'm embarrassed and blushing."

"It's not that I think it's humorous when your cheeks turn the most delicate shade of pink. It's that you're so self-conscious when you have no need to be."

"I have a need to be!" she defended.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what may that reason be?"

"I…I don't want others to think badly of me."

"Please mademoiselle! That is impossible for you!"

"No it's not! Remember what I told you last night about being rejected by men because I don't seem smart?"

"You shouldn't listen to those men anyway."

"And why not? I can't just think of myself as perfect and not having any wrongs—"

"First of all, _mademoiselle_, you have no wrongs."

Babette opened her mouth to interrupt but Lumiere silenced her with a hand. She relented grudgingly. "And even if you did have wrongs you shouldn't be ashamed of them. Only be aware of them. Being afraid of thunder storms is not a bad thing at all. Many people are afraid of them."

"Really?" she said doubtfully. "Name one then."

"…I can't name any off the top of my head but there are plenty, I assure you. Now, back to my previous question…"

"What was it again?" she stalled.

He smiled and repeated, "What were you doing roaming around the castle tonight?"

"I…Oh look! This is my room."

She tried to escape into the bedroom but was blocked by Lumiere, who still grinned at her continuous avoiding of the subject. "Not until you answer my question _cherie_."

"Please let me go to bed, Lumiere—"

"It'd be easier if you just answered me."

"Why do want to know so badly anyway?"

"I'm simply curious, especially now since you won't answer."

"Fine." She took a deep breath and said quickly, "I left my room because I don't like being alone during a storm now if you don't mind--"

She tried to sweep past him but he held her back. She refused to look at him when she said almost pleadingly, "I answered your question. Let me rest in peace for tonight."

"You don't like being alone during a storm? Why, that's nothing to fret about. Why were so reluctant to tell me?"

"I told you: I don't want others to think of me in a negative way."

"Maybe others do, _cherie_, but not I." He pushed open the door and held it open for her, making a sweeping motion for her to go through.

Babette walked into her room, but stopped and looked at him. "Never?"

"I will never think of you badly _cherie_. I promise you that."

She nodded and smiled, satisfied, and glided to her bed. She hopped onto it by using a chair and nightstand next to it. When she got on her bed, she turned to still find Lumiere there, watching her.

"Goodnight, Lumiere," she said.

"Goodnight, _mon amour_," he replied and shut the door.

_BOOM!_

Thunder sounded and lightening flashed, but she didn't cringe at all; she didn't feel scared of the storm anymore. It seemed that fear had been shut behind her bedroom door, but for good she didn't know. For now was all she needed.

Lumiere seemed so unafraid to say what he thinks. Again, that wonderful confidence Babette loved. He's so open and speaks truthfully, and he's definitely not self-conscious like herself.

And this is the third time he's had to comfort her about how she feels about herself. She's not confident with herself eighty percent of the time, all because of what other people told her or how she is on the inside. Come to think of it, she's pretty pathetic; a mess some would say.

Lumiere was the first to make her feel like…like a person really. She hasn't felt completely normal or comfortable or totally unaware of what she was doing since…well, she's never been treated normally. She was always especially beautiful or in need of special education, never special in the way _she_ wanted to be called special. He made her feel special in a way that made her feel good about herself, for she was tired of being just a pretty face and tired of compliments on how gorgeous she is. But when Lumiere told her she was beautiful, it was different, for he talked about her as a person as well as her exterior.

Babette listened to the rain beat less heavily on the roof and windows. No more thunder sounded and no more lightening flashed. She was able to fall asleep to her pleasant thoughts and sleep soundly as the storm blew over the castle.


	6. Threats and Teasing

Weeks passed and the weather stayed peaceful. No more clouds or potential storms approached. Babette often went outside to get a few rays of sunshine; it was habit to keep a good complexion, but she was also taking advantage of the clear skies.

She sat on the fountain where she and Lumiere had met at that one night, as she was drawn to it unconsciously, and watched the other servants work in the flower beds and lawn.

She never thought for a minute that she should be cleaning, or doing anything thoroughly constructive for that matter. There was no need: No one had appeared at the castle doors since the spell was cast. It was as if the entire castle had evaporated from existence to everyone outside of it; like it held no use anymore.

It wasn't pleasant to think about. So she began wondering what Lumiere could be doing. But she always had a guess.

Ever since the storm he's seemed to be going after every woman he found seemingly attractive, for the storm had awoken the rest of the servants that had been hiding in shame. All the servants that Babette supposed he used to flirt with had begun wandering the halls once again, and Lumiere was taking the most he can get out of this.

When she first saw him taking fancy to another as she happened to be wandering by, she had gotten furious and filled with jealousy. She had stopped and had waited for him to notice her, but his full attention was on the other. She couldn't take watching him exchange banters with another and had huffed off after waiting.

After that it didn't stop. It was like he was doing this on purpose to annoy her—and that's what she figured after seeing it so frequently. Every time, he seemed completely oblivious to anyone but the one he was wooing. Every time, these banters occurred when Babette happened to be gliding by. Even at times he had planted a kiss on the other's cheek, and it was always when Babette was around, which made her face get hot instantly with envy. This made her almost call him out, but she knew that was exactly what he was waiting for. It was another test, of course.

She became immune to seeing these banters after a few times, but soon felt left out and depressed. She didn't want to go flirting with another though, after how well the last time went. And Lumiere was pretty much the only person she talked to, despite how she was introduced to Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth and the wardrobe, who she's acknowledged in passing.

And then Mme. Margaux began pestering every time she saw her. At first it was just around the maids' room, so Babette avoided those corridors. But then she began seeing Mme. Margaux everywhere, like she was following her. She would nag her about cleaning and would blame her for the fact that, apparently, the maids stopped cleaning as well after Babette had said there was no need. Babette was branded a revolt leader by Mme. Margaux, but no one else spoke of that when she tried to spread the idea, for everyone thought the idea was absurd. But Mme. Margaux didn't give up, the stubborn old bat. The maids finally told Margaux to back off of her—to Babette's surprise—and Margaux relented, but not without a final warning:

"If we _ever_ turn human again, I'll make _sure_ you're packing your bags the same day."

Babette didn't care. The only thought she had was that she has peace at last...at least from one nuisance. There was still Lumiere to worry about.

It was discouraging to think that she was just another girl in line for Lumiere. He had every female servant in the castle to flirt with now. She was not the only one anymore. How could she think that she was the only one anyway? It's preposterous when you think about it.

Babette sighed and stared at the ground, listening to the sound of running water from the fountain she was sitting on.

"How did I guess you would be out here?" came his handsome voice from behind her.

She continued to stare at the ground almost intently, refusing to look up at Lumiere as he sat next to her.

"Allo?" Lumiere said when Babette didn't respond, and touched her.

She turned on him harshly. "What?"

He appeared surprised by her tone. "What is the problem?"

"I think you know very well what the problem is."

"No," he said, looking confused. "Else I wouldn't have asked."

"Just think for a moment," she said impatiently. "What have you been doing that could _possibly_ make me upset?"

"What _I've_ been doing?" he checked, and smiled at what he thought was a joke. "I haven't seen you around in weeks. What could I have done to make you mad at me?"

"Stop feigning ignorance, Lumiere!" Babette cried, feathers ruffling. "Don't pretend that you've been trying to make me jealous by flirting with every female servant in the castle!"

"I wasn't!" he defended. "Feigning ignorance I mean. I do not deny flirting with the servants though. But I didn't flirt to make you jealous!"

"Oh please!" she said, straightening up to tower over him. "Almost everyday I see you wooing over some other woman as I pass innocently by!"

"Really?" he said, shocked. "I never saw you!"

"Of course not!" she said, turning away. "You were too _distracted_ to notice me!"

"Then you should have said something," he said, standing up also and approaching her. "I would have been dazzled instantly by your beauty, _mademoiselle_."

"You looked much too busy," she said, ignoring the comment with some difficulty. "Besides, I thought you were testing me to see if I would get jealous." She faced him. "Well I wasn't!"

He smirked. "You really expect me to believe that, _cherie_?"

"I expect you to believe the truth!"

"Which is not what you speak. You were indeed jealous of the ones I took a slight fancy to."

Babette blushed furiously. "No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were. It is plain upon your beautiful face!"

She attempted to relax her tense muscles into a cool expression, but with no success, so she turned away again.

"Why can't you admit it _cherie_?" Just by the tone in his voice, Babette could tell he was having fun pushing her to the edge.

"I will lose my pride to no one," she said as she swept away a little around the rim of the fountain.

"Oh but pride can turn into stubbornness rather easily," he said, following her, "and there is no one here to lose your pride to."

She faced him again. "And you do not count? You are the person I absolutely refuse to lose my dignity to!"

"_Ma chere mademoiselle_, it is impossible for you to lose my respect of you. That is why I didn't count myself."

Babette looked down, sighed and spoke slowly, "I was envious of the ones you flirted with."

"Now was that so hard?" Lumiere said, smiling teasingly.

"Perhaps," she replied softly, still keeping her eyes averted.

"Be glad, _mademoiselle_. You have my undivided attention tonight. Those other servants aren't here to spoil our evening."

Babette kept her head down but relaxed.

Lumiere glanced to the west when she didn't speak. "Ah, the sun is setting."

He settled down again and faced the dusk. He looked back at Babette and patted the spot by him invitingly.

She smiled at the look he gave her, lowered herself next to him, and stared out at the sunset.

The sun was lowering itself below the tops of the tall evergreen trees. The sky shone yellow and orange while the clouds flashed pick and purple. An indigo night followed the sun's path steadily.

Babette breathed in the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding them and continued to stare in wonder at the sky's rich, dusky rainbow.

"The sun is so beautiful this time of day," she whispered.

He looked at her. "Yes, but nature has its…unattractive days, whereas you do not."

She turned away from the sun to look at him also. "Not even my beauty compares to that of nature's."

"You are a part of nature, as am I and every other living thing in this world. Therefore I can say that your beauty and grace is the best of nature's."

The sun then went below the horizon and the sky darkened as stars appeared above them.

"And unlike the sun, stars and moon, your elegance will last forever."

"The sun, stars, and moon last forever," she contradicted.

"You don't see the moon and sun out all the time, and their beauty is diminished by clouds and such things."

"The clouds make the sky unique everyday and add embellishment as they reflect the light of the sun and moon."

Lumiere sighed but still smiled. "Do you refuse to accept a compliment tonight?"

"I was simply saying I'm not as beautiful as the sunset and nighttime stars," she replied innocently.

"Really," he asked doubtfully. "Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Surely there must be something else on your mind," he insisted.

"I don't want to bother you with my own problems. You've had enough of them to deal with."

"If you're perturbed then so am I."

"But you've had so many to solve already," she persisted anxiously. "You must be getting tired of solving _my_ troubles."

"I have no problems of my own to solve," he said with a smile. "And I want to help if I can."

"Well…It's the head of the maids. Do you know Madame Margaux?"

"Unfortunately," he replied, grimacing. "She is not one of the pleasant kind around here. Why? Has she been bothering you?"

"More like harassing me," Babette said, eyebrows knitting. "She's been following me around to see if I clean anything, and I haven't been since there isn't a need anymore. The other maids made her ease up on me but not without a threat that I'll be out of the castle once we are human again."

"She follows you simply because you do not clean?" Lumiere asked, laughing. "I knew a bolt was loose but I didn't know her mind was falling apart!"

Babette giggled also, but turned solemn and said, "I don't care about her opinion of my cleaning. It is her threat that has me worried."

"I don't think you'll need to leave for quite some time." He turned serious. "At this rate, there's a chance we won't be human for months, maybe years."

"How can no one have approached the castle since the day we changed?"

"I believe it's the spell. Everyone's forgotten we exist. Anyone can stumble upon the castle, but we are in the middle of the woods. Someone would have to lose their way to find us now."

"But if there was a possibility that someone—a girl—_did_ find the castle and break the spell, what would I do about Madame Margaux once we are human?"

"If you want to think that far ahead," he said wry smile. "…Well she does have the power to get rid of you, but Cogsworth would have to agree also. I can persuade Cogsworth to not fire you, and probably not have her follow you around again."

She sighed in relief. "Oh thank you Lumiere! You are so handy!"

"I would hope so."

It was full nighttime now. A first quarter moon shined above them with the stars. Lumiere provided the only decent light, his glow reflecting off the water behind him.

"It's so convenient you were turned into a candle," Babette said offhand.

He gave her a look. "I wouldn't call it 'convenient.'"

"Why not? When I say 'convenient', I imply you're handy and, well, it suits you."

He continued to look at her strangely. "It's suitable for me to be a candelabrum?"

"Well, you provide a wonderful glow in the night first of all."

"And what if I felt simply 'put out?'" He extinguished his wicks without moving so the only light was the dim moon.

"Do you?" she teased, staring at his silhouette.

He lighted himself again; He hadn't moved a muscle. "Not while you're here."

Babette smiled and said, "And it's fitting for your character. As candles provide light during a dinner for two, you provide romantic candlelight all the time, especially at night."

"So my form simply adds to the romantic atmosphere?"

"_Oui_. It's not like _my_ form adds to it. I'm actually quite flammable."

"But I am careful not to burn you, am I not?"

"Of course," she said and smiled coyly. "But you light my fire anyways!"

Lumiere caught the air and grinned flirtatiously also. "And you sweep me off my feet, _cherie_!"

Inching closer, she said, "You set a spark through me!"

He leaned in too. "You really…tickle my fancy!"

She giggled. "Oh! Lumiere…"

"Ha!" a voice came from the garden gates. "I caught you slacking _again_!"

Mme. Margaux came into the light, looking proud and stern as usual, her lips curled in triumph.

Lumiere and Babette both jumped and scooted away from each other quickly, looking as innocent as possible.

"Oh please!" Mme. Margaux said, wiping of her smirk. "Cut the innocent act. You're as guilty as rats!"

"I beg your pardon!" Babette cried at the comparison.

"_Sssh!_" Mme. Margaux said. "You should be in the maids' room! It's past the start of sleeping hours."

"I haven't slept in there since we changed!" Babette exclaimed, her anger boiling at this less-than-welcome interruption to her evening. "You have no control over me! I do as I please!"

"Please Madame," Lumiere said to Margaux politely. "She has been with me. Surely you could excuse her—"

"This does not concern you, Monsieur Lumiere!" Margaux cut in. "Your place is in the kitchen!"

Lumiere's wicks flared angrily but he calmed himself. "Now allow me to explain—"

"_Sssh!_" Margaux interrupted again and turned to Babette. "Just because the maitre d' takes a fancy to you doesn't give you special privileges. And you!" She turned back on Lumiere. "You do not hold a higher rank than myself, nor do I over you, so don't expect me to let you order me like you were king!"

"I don't need to be told my position here, Madame," Lumiere said crossly, jumping down off the fountain to get level with her. "But I'm afraid you need to be reminded of _your_ place."

"Do not point at me with those candle stubs!" Margaux cried. "I'll inform the Master himself to set you straight if you won't keep your long nose out of business that doesn't involve you!"

"Ha!" Lumiere laughed. "The Master has neither the time nor the patience for your petty complaints!"

"Lumiere," Babette called as she hopped off the rim of the fountain.

"Oh I wouldn't be complaining," Margaux continued to Lumiere. "I would merely be advising your leave out of a third story window!"

Babette gasped and got in Margaux's face. "You take that back you wrinkled old gargoyle!"

Margaux's eyes alighted with fury.

"Babette," Lumiere tugged her back. "She is not worth it."

Babette relented and followed Lumiere to the gates, but not without giving Mme. Margaux one last, murderous look.

"You can't even imagine what you lost today my dear," Margaux called threateningly from the fountain.

Babette opened her mouth and was about to retort spitefully, but Lumiere whispered, "Just keep walking _cherie_."

Babette obeyed and turned away from the head maid, still fuming.

As soon as they were behind the castle doors, Babette cried, "Oh that foul, evil woman! I just want to…Ugh!"

Lumiere spoke gently. "Calm down now _cherie_—"

"How can I?! She insulted both of us! I don't care if she insults me, but she had no right to offend you in such a manner!"

"I agree. She was way out of line. I must speak to Cogsworth about her."

"Get _her_ thrown out of a third story window!" she suggested with fiery passion. "Ugh! I cannot _believe_ she said that to you!"

"Well, she said it, and she chose to go that way." He sighed and looked straight into Babette's eyes. "We must forget about her so we can sleep peacefully, alright?"

Babette didn't answer but looked down in a furious silence.

"At least for tonight, _mon cherie_," Lumiere persuaded. "I'll talk to Cogsworth tomorrow about expulsion, and maybe tell the others about her."

She looked up hopefully. "So we can turn everyone against her?"

"Don't stoop to her level _cherie_," he warned. "We don't want others thinking you're evil also."

That made her snap out of it; she took a deep breath. "Alright. Let's go to bed. Would you…?"

"_Oui, mademoiselle_," Lumiere said with a smile, bowing courteously. "I'd be happy to escort you."

He began guiding her through the halls.

"Um, Lumiere?" Babette said sheepishly after a moment of silence.

He glanced over. "Yes?"

"I feel the need to…apologize for her behavior and how she spoiled our evening."

"Oh no _cherie_!" Lumiere assured quickly. "This was not your fault. You have no need to apologize for someone else's actions. Do not think for a minute that what she did and said tonight was because of you."

"And maybe I shouldn't have spoken up and lost control—"

"_Cherie_, don't worry about what occurred tonight anymore." He then smiled. "Besides, it is reassuring to find you don't want to see me thrown out of a window."

"But of course, _monsieur_!" Babette said, laughing. "If that happened, who else could I spend my time exchanging banters with?"

"I'm sure you could have found someone just by passing them by with your magnificent splendor and charming wit."

"Oh but I'm not as witty as you, _monsieur_," she blushed. "And I don't radiate cleverness like yourself."

"That was one of the first traits I noticed of you that first time I walked by."

"Really?" she joked, looking at him slyly. "I thought you were staring at how tightly my outfit fit about my curves."

"Well…" He grinned guiltily. "It was difficult _not_ to notice them. They were rather lovely…" He stared at her body, trying to picture her curves again.

Babette giggled sexily. "Are you having trouble imagining them again?"

"Certainly not, _mademoiselle_. They are impossible to erase from memory, as is your stunning facial features, which thankfully I don't have to work to picture."

"So is it safe for me to say I won't ever be forgotten?" she asked, still flirting.

"It is much more than safe to say so. I would be surprised if any man who laid his eyes upon you could fail to remember such grace, such magnificence that you bear so well."

"Oh Lumiere, stop! You're making me blush so much, my face is burning!"

"Good," he said lasciviously. "I love seeing that rose-colored pink on your cheeks. They almost make me want to…"

"Want to what?" she asked, inching closer, but already knew the answer.

"Come here!" Lumiere made a swift motion to pull her closer but Babette slipped out of his grasp at the last second.

"You must do better than that!" Babette taunted as she moved away, her feathers swishing.

"I can and will _mademoiselle_!" and he chased her through the hallways. Babette flew into the corridor of her room and swept into her room, closing the door right behind her.

Lumiere skidded to a halt at the door just before he could smack into it.

"Oh come now, _mademoiselle_!" he pleaded. "You are not being fair!"

"Who said love is fair?" she replied playfully from behind the door. "Maybe you should 'hop to it' next time!"

"If I had legs, you would be mine at this very moment!"

"If you had legs, I would have arms and be pushing you away!"

"You want me to peck you on the cheek," he said, smirking.

"Maybe so…"

"There is a door blocking us _cherie_," he reminded.

"Then try to open it."

Lumiere pushed with all his might but it wouldn't budge.

"What did you put in front of the door?" he demanded.

"Take a guess." Babette winked at the chair and nightstand that had put themselves at the door for her.

"I don't know. A wall?"

She laughed.

"You're having fun with this, aren't you?"

"Don't I get to have fun teasing you once and a while, _monsieur_? You do it all the time to me."

"I had much more fun when _I_ was the one teasing."

"Come now! Did you already give up?"

"On guessing, yes. On you, never."

"You don't even want to try another guess?"

"I'd rather sleep out here in the middle of the hallway—which I think I'll do. You won't be able to escape me then."

"What if I don't come out?" she asked, smiling.

"You have to come out sometime."

"Until then…Goodnight, Lumiere," she said with a playful air.

"I'll be waiting, _mon amour_," he said so quietly it was almost inaudible through the door.

Babette went to lean on the door to make sure Lumiere wasn't going to attempt to open the door again.

When no sounds came from behind the door, she whispered to the chair and nightstand, "I don't think he'll try to open the door again. Back to your places please. And _merci_."

They went to their places beside the bed. She hopped onto them then her bed, and laid down.

Lumiere might think she's being cruel to him, but she is simply playing hard-to-get. Of course she wanted that kiss on the cheek, but if he is made to wait, he will want to kiss her more, and it will keep building until he gets it.

Babette loved playing this game, especially on Lumiere, for she knows he won't give up until he gets to peck her on the cheek. Other men gave up, which made it no fun at all. They expected a kiss on the lips, and she doesn't do that. But she let's them hope and dream she will, and that's the fun of it. Playing with the minds of men was her pastime at her old home.

And she had and took the chance to do it to Lumiere. Oh what fun!

She giggled merrily as she tucked more under the covers.

His lips will touch her someday…maybe. But not soon.


	7. The Simonese Scandal

**A/N: **Sorry for the slow update but I was working on the play (if you don't remember it's Beauty & the Beast—go figure). Also, my computer had to be rebooted and I lost everything!! Not fun. But the play was! I'm gonna miss being in my feather duster costume everyday…

Enjoy!

* * *

Babette crept to the door to listen for any sound of movement as soon as she woke up.

When she didn't hear anything for a moment, she pushed open the bedroom door on the right quietly. She peeked around the door to the right and glanced left. She almost yelped when she saw Lumiere.

Babette breathed a slow sigh of relief; he was sleeping soundly against the left bedroom door. She had opened the right door by sheer luck!

She closed the door slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements or sounds.

She was about to turn and walk down the corridor away from him, but she couldn't help but stare at him sleeping:

He was sitting up on the door was his chin resting on his chest, which was rising and falling with his slow even breathing. A candle-stub hand lay casually on his torso as he snored.

It was odd to find him so peaceful, for he was the complete opposite. It disturbed her slightly that she found him this way and was urged to wake him up to interact with his lively, romantic, charming self. But Babette held back; she'd be giving herself up without a fight.

She delights in the challenge of keeping him at bay and interested. She feels she has him on a string now, but knows that _that_ could _never_ happen; you can't control a man like Lumiere—another trait in common that does more harm than good.

Babette turned and swept down the corridor away from him, leaving him to snooze. She smiled mischievously at the thought of his reaction of being fooled entirely and having her slip right from his grasp.

She turned the corner to find someone waiting: a maid like her.

Babette knew she was a maid because she's been turned into a feather duster. This maid held the same features as Babette: she had that same sensual appeal and had identical facial features, only her eyes were blue and her lips shone a rosy pink. She also had a mischievous glint in her eye that Babette tended to hold, but this maid's glint was a little more devious in a way.

"Oh!" the maid cried in delighted surprise. "_Bonjour_, Babette!"

"Oh, um, _bonjour_," Babette replied awkwardly. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh all the maids know _your _name!" she said, smiling widely. "You were quite memorable after the way you stood up to Madame Margaux."

"So it seems," Babette said, becoming suspicious at this girl's seeming cheerfulness that seemed to be only a façade. "And yet I don't recall yours being said."

The maid gave a lighthearted laugh. "Silly me! I forgot you've only been here for such a short amount of time! I am Simone." She curtsied politely.

Babette returned the gesture. "Pleasure." She hesitated before asking the question which was bothering her immensely: "May I ask what you are doing lurking around this hallway at this time of morning?"

Simone gave Babette a sweeping look from top to bottom, analyzing her, and seemed to come out of indecision: "I think you could…"

"Could what?" Babette dared to ask, an eyebrow rising, and hoping this becomes relevant to her previous question.

"Keep a secret," Simone replied with a roguish sparkle in her eye.

"Of course I can!" Babette said. "I am a maid after all."

Simone paused and smirked satisfactorily before saying, "I just happened to be wandering by when—" She swept quickly to the corner to peer around it where Lumiere was still sleeping "—I see _him_ asleep."

Simone gazed almost dreamily at the snoozing maitre d' while Babette's anger began to boil, but she kept it at bay and did not show it.

Simone faced her with a smile and added, "He's so handsome when he sleeps, isn't he?"

Babette remained silent as Simone took one more glance at Lumiere. When she turned back, a small hint of that deviousness was in her eyes, but only for a second; no more.

"I don't understand how you can refuse a kiss from him," Simone said, crystal clear amazement upon her features. "He's so…irresistible! I could never run away from an offer like that!"

"Well he needs to know I'm not easy to obtain," Babette said with an artificial candy-sweet smile, secretly suggesting Simone do the same. "If he wants me, he has to fight for me. I'm sure he relishes the challenge. Why else would he be waiting at my door?"

Returning Babette's smile, Simone asked with a sly look, "Surely you thought about giving in once or twice. I mean who has such willpower?"

"Are you suggesting I'm not strong-willed?"

"No no no!" Simone dismissed as she flashed her smile. "I'm merely speaking rhetorically, for it's apparent you are strong-willed."

Simone peered around the corner again before looking again at Babette with that devious glint in her eyes again. Babette was becoming uneasy; what is she concocting in that mind of hers?

"There's more," Simone whispered. "Last night…" Simone giggled involuntarily at the thought of her secret venture. "I…_visited_ Lumiere. He just seemed so lonely outside the doorway waiting for you so I thought I would give him some company." She was smirking when she had finished saying this.

"How generous of you," Babette said with a hint of sarcasm and fake smile.

Simone returned the smile again, only this one seemed sincere. "I try to do my part." And there it was; the scheming glint in her bright blue pools for eyes.

She sighed tiredly, like being this kind took a toll on her. "Well, I better be getting back to the maids' room; Madame Margaux will have a fit if she doesn't see me, her right-hand maid, present before eight."

Still with only her eyes shining deviously, she gave Babette another knowing look as she said, "_Au revoir_, Babette." And she swept away from her down the corridor slowly but in a way that made her feathers move spectacularly; the way a woman walks when trying to catch a man's attention.

Babette watched her with eyes narrowed. That little maid was up to something evil, and Babette had a pretty good idea what it was about: Why is everyone intent on getting between her and Lumiere?

Of course this type of forbidden love made things more interesting, but there is a point where these interruptions and interventions become irritating. Why can't they just leave them be?!

This Simone was trouble—Babette knew that for a fact. And what she had said disturbed her; she had "visited" him? Was she telling the truth, or making up lies to create tension between them?

What scared Babette was that this could be absolutely true. How was she to reproach Lumiere about this without creating a fight in the process? She had to know if he had been flirting with that maid outside her door while Babette was sleeping. If he did, that would have been incredibly rude and deceitful; they would have been playing kissy-face right outside her door! Babette wouldn't have minded if they had flirted without her finding out; she knows he has those impulses to banter with other women, for she has the same drives. But there's a point where bantering with a specific person can all of a sudden make angry wildfires rage.

If he hadn't, then Simone was just a conniving snake.

Babette prayed it not to be true, but had a feeling it was—but then again it could possibly be false. To question Lumiere would be a disaster, she knew it. He would take it as accusatory if untrue and it would start up a fight where Babette would have to apologize and make her appear lowly and meek—which was just not an option; She was much too proud. Or he would say it to be true, and Babette would throw a fit and refuse to speak to him for flirting with that little serpent maid.

Both possibilities of the same choice ended negatively. There was another choice that Babette had to accept: She had to avoid Lumiere until the truth of this was somehow revealed and they can approach each other without being suspicious or feeling guilty. If they met again before this predicament was settled, how they interact will bring up the subject because of the doubts and secrets they were keeping, which aren't easily hidden from view, especially since they each speak so freely when they were around the other.

Babette cursed that maid, Simone, for the amount of trouble she had caused. Anyone that wicked-minded shouldn't be around others, poisoning their thoughts and emotions, turning them sour.

Babette walked down the corridor away from Lumiere, and before she turned a corner gave one last glance at him, who was still sleeping. She sadly turned away and swept down another hallway with a heavy heart that seemed to drag behind her, making her pace slow and shorten.

* * *

_Mon Dieu_.

Babette had escaped him again; she was neither in her room nor in the hallways surrounding it. Of course he had slept against the wrong door; he had been too tired to think of sleeping where the doors meet.

Now Lumiere had to find her. Again.

This is becoming a chore in their routine. She can never say where she's going or if she'll be waiting for him at a certain spot. It's a treat simply to find her around this enormous castle. But being in her company was worth all the irritation of not finding her in a room or the aching he found in his form after hopping around the castle all day in search of her every time he laid to rest. Seeing her just makes all of that vanish like magic.

The sooner he found her, the sooner he will feel all the worry and stress of all that's occurred and what's still happening evaporate from his shoulders. The problem was picking where to look.

He picked the first that came to mind: the kitchen. It was almost always his first pick since he's in it most frequently—not recently of course but before the spell had been cast.

Lumiere hurriedly hopped to the kitchen and was soon pushing open the kitchen door.

There was a hustle and bustle in the kitchen: Dishes, pots, pans and silverware were being washed and dried by sponges, brushes and towels in the sink and put away in the cupboards, brooms and dusters were sweeping debris of the counters and floors, and mops and a pails full of soap and water cleaned the floors after the brooms, water spilling over the buckets' edges, and Mrs. Potts was on the island observing the entire progression.

This took Lumiere completely by surprise as he didn't expect anyone to be here except for a possible Babette, so he had to suddenly jump out of the way as a mop and bucket hopped by doing their duties.

"Mrs. Potts!" Lumiere called to her perch on the island.

She turned at the call and her face lit up when she saw him. "Oh Lumiere! Yes come up here! We need to chat."

"What is going on here?" Lumiere asked when he had climbed his way onto the island and was level with the teapot.

"We are simply cleaning up after breakfast," Mrs. Potts replied happily. "The Master rather enjoyed the meal."

"The Master?!" Lumiere cried, shocked. "But—But when—how--?!"

"I know, I know; you have a lot of catching up to do," Mrs. Potts observed with an amused smile.

"Why didn't you tell me the Master had come down from his room?!" Lumiere had finally managed to sputter out. "I'm supposed to be here, aren't I? How long has this been going on without my notice?"

"Now now, Lumiere, there's no need to fret," Mrs. Potts reassured. "We've been taking good care of business without your services. It _is _only the Master after all. We just need our cooks and servers."

"But this is a special event, is it not? He has finally come out of the West Wing!"

"Oh he's been coming out to eat for quite some time; ever since the storm."

"Then why did you not tell me?" Lumiere persisted anxiously.

"We didn't want to bother you as you were still sleeping in the mornings and going around the women in the evenings."

"I would at least have liked to know that the Master isn't wallowing in his room for hours on end."

"Oh but he still stays in there all day," Mrs. Potts said, her face falling. "He only comes out to eat."

"How is he now?" Lumiere asked. "Is his temper still as short as his patience?"

"He seems to have humbled slightly," Mrs. Potts acknowledged, "but he can still get impatient about the cooking."

"That's because I help the food get out of the kitchen quickly," Lumiere pointed out.

Mrs. Potts laughed heartily. "That you do, Lumiere. But you don't need to be here if you don't want to be."

"Oh I want to be! I want to see for myself if the Master has been humbled, and how the Master is fairing with being turned into a…beast."

"Well come by for supper then—If you're not too busy that is."

"Most likely not, but something might come up," Lumiere said, thinking of Babette.

"I must say, it would be nice to have you for help around here tonight," Mrs. Potts admitted. "You know how to pacify the Master until he gets his food."

"I don't know if I should be the one to entertain him after how I avoided him, if you remember."

"Oh pish posh!" Mrs. Potts said with a smile. "He wouldn't remember that!"

"You'd be surprised at how well he remembers grudges."

"Then maybe you can smooth out the wrinkles tonight and get that off your chest."

Lumiere sighed. "Alright. I'll entertain him tonight."

"Thank you Lumiere," Mrs. Potts said gratefully. "Cogsworth has been the one distracting him and, well, he's not as good at it as you, to put it kindly."

"Oh I can only imagine," Lumiere muttered before hopping of the island and heading to the doors.

"See you at supper!" Mrs. Potts called before turning her attention to the cleaning.

Lumiere pushed open the door to walk out but remembered the reason he came here in the first place, and faced Mrs. Potts again.

"Wait a moment," Lumiere said to Mrs. Potts.

She turned. "Yes?"

"Have you seen Babette around?"

"You can't seem to keep track of that girl," Mrs. Potts laughed, shaking her head at him.

"She likes to play hide and seek," Lumiere explained with a grin.

"I see. Well I haven't seen her. Good luck on finding her."

"Merci; I'll need it."

Mrs. Potts only laughed and continued observing the cleaning as Lumiere walked out of the kitchen.

He looked up and down the corridor, at a loss at where to look next.

The gardens?

Right now that was his best bet, so he went off in that direction, keeping a sharp eye out for the little feather duster along the way.

As he wandered down a southern corridor a quick movement of black and white caught his eye. It turned around a nearby corner. He hastily jumped into that corridor and saw a feather duster with unmistakable ruby red lips and deep brown eyes as she glanced back at him for a millisecond.

"Ah ha!" Lumiere cried in triumph. "I finally found you, _mon cher_ Babette!"

* * *

Oh no no no no no! She had only avoided him for two hours and he already found her!

Why had she looked back? If she hadn't looked back he might have confused her with some other maid. Now he was chasing her.

He was gaining. She turned a corner, trying to shake him off her trail. He followed her without hesitation.

"You can't hide from me now, _mon cher_!" Lumiere called.

Babette didn't answer but pushed open a crack in the large southern back doors and ran out into the gardens, hoping to find cover in the bushes.

Lumiere thought it strange she didn't respond, but didn't dwell on it as he slipped into the gardens and continued to chase after the little maid.

Babette thought about going into the hedge maze, but she planned on leading Lumiere out and after he had paced her hiding place, she would slip back into the castle, and she didn't want to get lost in the process.

So she dived into some red rose bushes, getting pricked painfully by the thorns along the way and hoping her lips would blend into the rich scarlet of the petals.

Lumiere stopped by their fountain and cried, "Oh _cherie_!" He had a playful, mischievous grin on his face, like he usually did when he was taunting and flirting with her. He thought she was only playing a game, but she was shaking like a leaf in fear and anxiety in being found and at avoiding at all costs the impending fight between them that seemed to draw ever nearer at an alarming pace.

He began to look around the bushes, shifting the flowers carefully. He was getting closer to her and she ducked deeper into the bush, wary not to make the flowers move so he could find her.

He came to the bush next to her, and her heart pumped faster, but he seemed to give up looking in the flowers and walked right by her bush and moved on to another section. He decided quickly and wandered into the hedge maze.

Babette breathed a long sigh of relief. How she managed to escape him was a miracle to her. She hastily got out of the bushes, and snagged a few of her feathers on the bushes. She shook off the thorns, rushed to the castle door, and ducked in with a last glance behind her to make sure Lumiere was gone.

As she backed up into the castle, she turned to be face-to-face with none other than the last person she wanted to see: Simone.

"Oh my! You look so harried!" Simone commented with a grin as she observed Babette's fretful expression and feathers in disarray with leaves and thorns caught in them. "Running through some thorn bushes?"

"Why does it matter to you Simone?" Babette interrogated through clenched teeth.

She appeared hurt at Babette's harsh tone. "Babette, I'm only concerned for your well-being!"

"There is no need for your concern," Babette bit. "I am fine, thank you."

"You don't _look_ fine," Simone pointed out.

"It doesn't matter how I look!" Babette cried, unable to control her fury. "I am telling you now: you don't have to worry about me! Why are you so concerned anyway? You're the reason for me having to hide from him!"

"Me?" Simone asked innocently, looking hurt again. "I didn't tell you to hide from him!"

"Of course you didn't!" Babette exclaimed. "You wanted me to reproach him about you flirting with him last night, which would have started a fight either way! You purposely told me that 'little secret' of yours so you can tamper my relationship with Lumiere and so you can have your chance with him! Well let me tell you that you'll just have to give up, because what I have with him is stronger than _anything_ you'll ever have with any man! Especially since you're a—"

"A what?" Simone asked with a malicious grin on her face.

"A—A deceitful, conniving, evil, manipulative little—"

"Babette?" the charming voice that made her heart drop like a rock called from behind her.

Babette turned to see him at the door looking between her and Simone.

"Simone, what are you doing here?"

"Oh Lumiere!" Simone cried as she burst into fake tears and ran up to him. "Stop Babette, please! She is calling me things like 'deceitful' and 'conniving' and '_evil_'! Oh please stop her from doing more harm onto me! You _know_ how sensitive I am to such harsh words!"

Babette's jaw dropped at this girl's over-exaggeration. This girl is _unbelievable_! She knew Lumiere was behind this door, and had her spew everything right in front of him.

A perplexed Lumiere looked down at the sobbing maid leaning her head against his chest. He grabbed her and pushed her back so she wasn't leaning on him anymore, and looked to Babette.

"Babette, what's going on here?" he asked.

Simone glanced suddenly up at him. "Did you not hear me? She was insulting me and calling me 'evil'! '_Evil_', Lumiere!" She burst into a set of artificial tears.

Babette, coming back to her senses, said, "She's acting! She's not really crying!"

Simone turned on her. "_Acting_?! You dare accuse of me of _acting_, after damaging my soul?!"

"Oh please; damaging your soul?!" Babette shouted, outraged at this girl's nerve. "You don't have a soul, you little demon!"

Simone gasped and faced Lumiere again. "You see Lumiere? Now she's calling me a demon and that I have no soul! Just make her stop Lumiere!"

"Alright!" Lumiere cried furiously, waving his hands in time-out. "Stop it, both of you! Just calm down." Both girls stared at him as he turned to Babette. "Now, Babette, tell me what is happening here."

"She will only lie to you!" Simone began.

"Let Babette speak!" Lumiere said to her in a final tone and looked at Babette. "Continue, _mademoiselle_."

"Well," Babette began, still fired up from yelling. "First of all, she is lying to you about crying—"

"Do these look fake to you?!" Simone objected.

"Simone!" Lumiere cried. "You will get your turn alright, _cherie_?"

Simone relented grudgingly and looked at the floor with a sour face.

Lumiere invited Babette to continue, "_Mademoiselle_."

"As I was saying," Babette continued. "Well this all started this morning when I found her lurking in the hallway of my bedroom. She told me she had 'visited' you outside my bedroom door in the middle of the night while I was sleeping. I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not so I tried to avoid you because I was afraid to talk to you about it. But you easily found me so I snuck into the gardens, hid in a bush, waited until you were out of sight, then crept back in here where I found _her_"—Babette gave Simone a dirty look—"waiting and she started acting concerned for me with my feathers tangled with leaves and things. Then you came in as I was inconveniently accusing her of being a little snake!"

"Fine," Simone said, "I admit that I told her I visited you last night. But isn't it true Lumiere? Didn't I visit you last night?"

Babette looked to Lumiere, who appeared guilty.

"Oh no," Babette said with dread growing. "Not right outside my bedroom door! Not with _her_!"

"I'm afraid so, _cherie_," Lumiere said. "Would you believe me if I said I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't been so drunk with drowsiness?"

"You seemed wide awake when I was approaching you," Simone added.

"I don't know," Babette confessed. "I don't know what to believe."

"Look, _cherie_," Lumiere said, approaching her. "She showed up out of nowhere and I was desperate to kiss those beautiful pink cheeks of yours. And she looks so much like you. I was literally fooling myself that she was really you. Can you believe that, _cherie_?"

Babette stalled on an answer so Simone cut in: "Oh but surely you had more fun with me! You spoke so passionately last night."

"As I do with every other girl, Simone," Lumiere said to her. "You're no different than the others."

"Then what makes _her_ so special?" Simone cried angrily. "What does she have that I don't? Just tell me what I need to do, Lumiere, and I'll do it."

"You don't need to do anything, Simone. I simply pick what girl I feel like being with at the moment."

"And it's _her_, isn't it?" Simone continued to shout accusatorily. "Why not me? I look exactly like her! You can easily confuse me for her!"

"I can easily tell you apart. Sure you are both feather dusters and have an identical face but you are _not_ the same."

"Just let me be with you!" Simone pleaded desperately. "Please! You know I love you Lumiere! I always have!"

"Simone, you always blow things out of proportion and complicate things!" Lumiere said. "If you used that bright mind of yours for good instead of concocting plans to sabotage all the girls I'm in contact with, then perhaps I could return the feelings!"

"Then I'll stand down so maybe you can," Babette said to him, growing sick of listening to this. "Good luck with her; you'll need it."

She turned from the stunned silence and swept down the hallway.

She spoke sincerely. If this fighting over him was going to continue, then she doesn't want to deal with it. Besides, she can't make him choose; she knows what that feels like. So many men have expected her to choose between one and the other, and she could only walk away, not picking at all. No one had given _her _a break, and Lumiere deserved one, so she took herself out of the choices.

Not caring where she was going, Babette glided around the corner, still in a state of deep thought at what she just did.


	8. Arguments

Lumiere could only stare after Babette as she calmly swept down the corridor.

What does she mean "Good luck with her"? He didn't want to deal with Simone at the moment either! After hearing that she "loved him", he realizes how much he messed up with her. If he had let on that he felt the same way, he has to slap himself on the wrist.

He had dug himself a deep hole: First, he lead Simone to believe that he "loved" her, and second, Babette had walked away thinking he did.

How could she think that though? She knows him well enough. But so does Simone, and look how mistaken _she_ is.

This was just one terrible misunderstanding—and they're so hard to get out of with all the explaining and making things right with everyone involved.

How is he supposed to explain to Simone that he doesn't love her?

Lumiere slowly turned to find Simone staring at him expectantly. "Well? You heard her: she won't stand between us anymore!" And she approached him, getting extremely close.

"Look, _cherie_," Lumiere began uncomfortably, thinking hard on how to put this while he held Simone at arms' length. "There isn't exactly an 'us', per se."

She frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well…" he continued, refusing to look at her but instead looked away in a sort of thought. "It's simply that—to put it plainly—we never…were."

She began to panic. "What are you trying to say? That everything you said—everything you did to me—was a lie?"

Feeling himself losing hold on this, he tried to recover: "I wouldn't put it that way _cherie_. Merely that I say things that I don't sincerely, truly mean. A play on words, if you will."

"A play on words." Simone repeated disbelievingly. "Fancy talk."

"Exactly!" He smiled at her seeming understanding.

"And you use this 'fancy talk' with Babette also?" she asked.

Oh no, he thought. This is going in the wrong direction! I hate how she turns things around like this!

He does use a play on words with Babette…at least he means to. But ends up not only being flirtatious, but more of himself than he usually is with one-night standers. It seemed after all those times comforting her about how she feels about herself, he allowed more of himself to show through.

Now that he thinks about it, everything after their first encounter in the hallway when they had been human had been real. Even the usual flirting game they play was real, because each knew the other was playing along with what the other said; they both played this game with mere common men and women who weren't known as flirters and who took everything related to love seriously. That was when it was simply fancy talk. With Lumiere and Babette, it wasn't like that, but much more.

Was he to lie or tell Simone the truth?

He _had_ used fancy talk on Babette; once in the hallway before Cogsworth had interrupted their first and last encounter as human. If he said he used it on Babette, would that be lying?

Lumiere shrugged mentally and finally responded to the waiting Simone: "Yes. I do."

Simone smiled, satisfied that Babette wasn't special enough to get more than she got out of Lumiere. "Good. Then she is just another girl you flirt with?"

No, he thought instantly but replied differently: "Yes, as are you and every other girl I've ever exchanged banters with."

"But I am special, no?" she asked with a persuading smile.

"Um…" This is harder than he first thought. "No one gets special treatment from me."

Except Babette, a voice in the back of his head reminded.

"I have no favorites," he continued, ignoring the voice.

Except Babette.

Shut up, Lumiere told the voice and for a moment he questioned his own sanity: What were these women doing to him?

"You do not have to hide your feelings," Simone said, still blind to what Lumiere was trying to say. "There is no one around you have to convince."

"Ah Simone!" Lumiere cried, his patience with her running dry. "I've tried to be gentle with you, but you can't seem to get the point unless it's thrown at you! Listen closely and don't twist what I say: I do not love you! I cannot return the feelings! Yes I know it's hard to accept, but you have to get it through that head of yours that we are not a couple and we never were!"

As expected Simone began to tear up, but for real this time. Lumiere used to feel sympathetic; he's had plenty of these women to deal with and even had to talk to them to get them to stop stalking him and treating him like a real lover, just like with Simone. But Simone was the final straw and, unfortunately for her, attained no pity from him.

Okay, maybe a little pity, because she began to sob so uncontrollably she couldn't speak clearly without a sob interrupting what she said.

Lumiere sighed and said, "Calm yourself. It's not the end of the world. There are plenty of other men out there who can commit to one woman. I'm just not one of them. Alright?"

Simone looked up at him with angry tears and spoke clearly this time. "Fine! But you'll regret not taking me in when you had the chance! I'll find another: One with more dignity and honor than you!" She spun around, feathers whirling, and swept off in that direction with her nose held high.

"Finally," Lumiere muttered under his breath, relieved, when she was out of sight. "I thought she would _never_ get the point."

Well the hard part's over. Now he needs to explain things to Babette. But he has to find her. _Again_. And he's not in the mood and is too tired. If he sees her wandering around, he'll talk to her. But right now he has to help with dinner.

He hopped off to the kitchen, shaking off that talk with Simone and getting himself ready for his talk with the Master.

* * *

Babette was wandering through some unknown-to-her part of the castle; "Unknown-to-her" because she didn't care to look up from her thoughts.

She knows she gave up on Lumiere and just handed him to Simone, but it doesn't feel like she did. It probably hasn't hit her yet. It will soon enough and when it does…well, she doesn't know exactly how she will react.

She was in a "What now?" state; How will she spend her time now since she doesn't have Lumiere anymore? This castle was only interesting when she had him to talk to. Now it will simply go back to being as dull and boring as it was her first day here?

She can't accept that. She _won't_ accept that. She can surely find something else to do around here. Maybe get back to her favorite hobby: Flirting with all the men.

She needs to get back into it; it's been so long. She didn't realize how much she misses going around all the different men and playing with their emotions. Since all the servants are out and about, she has a decent selection.

The problem is that she can't get an accurate description of anyone since everyone was turned into an object. She doesn't have that same "spark" when she sees a man walking by when they're an object.

Oh this is such a bother! Why does finding something to do have to be so difficult?

Babette caught herself clenching her eyebrows and baring her teeth in frustration, and that made her realize something: She hadn't gotten angry with Lumiere when he had told her that flirting with Simone outside her bedroom door was true.

What could have made her not get angry? He had said he probably wouldn't have flirted if he wasn't too "drunk with drowsiness". She figured you had to be drunk with _something_ to start flirting with Simone, so she would count that as a reasonable excuse. He also had said that he had been fooling himself that Simone was Babette instead because of how much they look alike.

Babette found herself flattered at this; He tried to make himself believe he had been kissing her instead of Simone. Even though he was simply taking advantage of their similarities in appearance, he had imagined he had been flirting with her, out of all the other women he's come in contact with.

That must mean _something_ right? He still had to think of her above all the others—she knows she did of him.

And how he said it; he didn't expect Babette to believe that what he had said was true, and yet he wanted her to. Usually that means that they feel ashamed and think they deserve to be shunned by the person they've made offense to if they say it in a certain way—and he was almost pleading.

Babette stopped and looked out a window to the cloudy sky. She saw her reflection and stared at her knit eyebrows.

What was she doing? Why would he pick Simone over her? Lumiere had made it clear to Babette by how he spoke to Simone that he isn't very fond of her. Stepping down for Simone had seemed noble at the time, but now it just seemed stupid.

Babette betted her chances at being human again that Lumiere was looking for her at this very moment. Oh she abuses that man! And yet he still searches high and low for her. She felt terribly guilty.

She has to go searching for him this time, and give him a break.

But where is she to look?

Babette can only imagine how many times Lumiere asked himself the same question.

Then she saw someone walk behind her in the reflection and she spun around quickly at the pedestrian.

"Cogsworth!" she cried excitedly. Maybe he knew where Lumiere is so she doesn't have to tear this place apart looking for him.

Cogsworth jumped up at the sudden sound; he seemed to have been distracted with his own thoughts and Babette had just snapped him out of them rather harshly.

"Uh yes?" he asked the air and turned his head to Babette and mild surprise showed on his features. "Oh. Yes. Good evening, mademoiselle. You called me?"

"_Oui_, and good evening to you as well. I just need to ask you something—"

"Well make it quick," he said hastily, now appearing rushed. "I have to be at dinner before the Master shows."

"Yes of course. I—" Babette stopped herself. "Wait. The Master is showing for dinner? He came out of his room at last?"

Cogsworth rolled his eyes, making it plain he has explained this before. "Yes yes, he's come out of his room in the West Wing to finally dine properly. Now please just ask your question so I can answer and be on my way to the dining hall!"

"_Pardon_, Cogsworth. I was only wondering if you would happen to know where Lumiere is."

"Why am I not surprised?" he mumbled more to himself than her and continued, "I expect he would be with you tonight since he hasn't been present as part of the staff at dinner since the Master first came down to eat." He said this last part disapprovingly, apparently unhappy with Lumiere slacking from his duties to flirt with all the female servants.

"Oh, I didn't know I was distracting him from his duties. My apologies."

Cogsworth truly seemed surprised at this statement. "Oh you are not the one at fault, dear _mademoiselle_. It's Lumiere's responsibility to know when he needs to be working and when he can goof off." He softened a bit and added, "But thank you for the kind apology."

"Of course, _monsieur_," Babette replied with a polite inclination of her head. She had hoped that an apology would get him on his good side. "Thank you for your time. I guess I have to find his whereabouts in some other form." She turned to leave.

Cogsworth held up a hand. "Wait, _mademoiselle_," he said. "I believe Lumiere would be at dinner tonight since he's apparently not with you. And I heard from a few wine glasses that he had a chat with Mrs. Potts, so I would think he now knows what's been going on here. Perhaps you could look for him in the kitchen; if he is indeed going to be at dinner, that's where he would be."

"Oh thank you, Cogsworth!" she said gratefully, giving him a wide smile. "You don't know how much trouble you've saved me!"

"Yes, anytime, _mademoiselle_. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way." He gave a quick bow and waddled off in the direction of the kitchen.

Babette didn't follow him to the kitchen, but instead took a different route; it would just be odd if Cogsworth found she was following him. And if she had walked with him to the kitchen, there would have only been an awkward silence. Babette can see how the wardrobe, Madame de la Grand Bouche, is his perfect match; you can't have an awkward silence with her around.

Babette hurriedly swept off to the kitchen to clear up this misunderstanding with Lumiere.

* * *

Lumiere was observing the preparing and cooking of the cuisine when Mrs. Potts came through the kitchen doors on her tea cart from serving the Prince some before-supper tea.

"He's all yours Lumiere," Mrs. Potts informed. "I'll take the preparations from here." She studied Lumiere for a moment. "You aren't nervous are you?"

Lumiere gave a short laugh. "Nervous? Please! I don't get nervous! Apprehensive though…"

"Oh you'll do fine!" Mrs. Potts said. "The Master is in a particularly good mood for his standards; he's not happy but he's not upset either. He just seems quiet today."

Lumiere sighed. "Alright. I better not keep him waiting."

"Good idea," Mrs. Potts commented with a smile.

And Lumiere was out the kitchen door.

The Beast sitting in his high-backed chair looked up at the sound.

Lumiere hurriedly climbed onto the table to get kind of level with him.

"Good evening, Master!" Lumiere said pleasantly. He always acts pleasantly around the Prince to try and get him to ease up on his anger. It doesn't work though but it keeps an argument from forming—and keeps Lumiere from losing his job. "I'm glad to see you out of the West Wing at last! My one thousand apologies for not being here to serve you. I didn't know you had been coming down to eat."

"No need for your apologies," the Prince growled. "I only want to know what you've been doing that prevented you from not performing your duty to me."

"Um, well…" Lumiere could only say, looking away and thinking at high-speed. "There's been some…personal occurrences going on."

"How personal?" Beast asked in his harsh growling voice.

"It's…complicated," Lumiere said. This was not getting off to a good start. "I hope you know I haven't been avoiding you again. I just learned today after breakfast that you had left your room."

"If you can't tell me what you've been doing, how can I believe you?" the Prince interrogated, his tone becoming angry.

Lumiere grimaced. If he tells him about Babette and how he's been flirting with all the female servants around the castle, he was sure to get himself and Babette into trouble.

"If you are to know the truth, I must ask a promise of you." He added quickly, "Remember that I am one of your most humble and loyal of servants and have advised you greatly over the years."

There was a silence where Lumiere held his breath and the Prince only stared with his still-human bright blue, appraising eyes. Half of the Prince's face was obscured in shadow while the other was lit by the fire in the wide fireplace.

"Fine," Beast at last grumbled. "What promise must I make?"

"That none of the servants involved in my absence will be punished…but I do not include myself. I hope I do not ask of much."

"No, you don't," Beast agreed. "You never did. Fine; I won't punish those involved. Now tell me so I may judge for myself whether you need to be punished."

"As you wish," Lumiere replied. "It's rather simple really; I have been spending the evenings entertaining the castle's women, and pleasuring myself in the process," he added with a small smirk. "I was also making a little maid jealous along the way. It was quite amusing when I confronted her about it." He turned serious and said, "I know it's not a very good excuse but I am telling the truth by my honor." He placed a hand on his heart.

The Prince only stared, making Lumiere uncomfortable. He backtracked to what he had said and thought about what else he could add to plead his case, but the Prince suddenly sighed and put his head into a large paw.

"Master?" Lumiere called, concerned.

"Lumiere?" Beast looked up and his eyes were now distressed. "How am I supposed to have someone love me by the time the rose dies? No one has even approached the castle. And how is anyone going to fall in love with _this_?" He sighed. "You make it seem so easy."

"I'm flattered at this, Master, but do you think I catch a woman's eye by my looks? No; I assert myself in the best way possible. It's how you treat a woman that counts. It's what's inside you that ends up shining through your exterior, no matter how, er…rough it may be."

"But no one has come up to the castle. No one's giving me a chance."

"Someone—a girl, hopefully—will eventually get lost in these woods and we'll be the first to provide her shelter."

"But not without my permission, Lumiere." His tone became slightly threatening. "Do you understand?"

"Yes of course, Master. Perfectly."

"Good," was Beast's only reply as the food finally came out on carts, hopping onto the table as the carts stopped and waddled over to where the Prince was sitting.

"Go go, swiftly," came a tight voice from behind Lumiere. "Ah! Not _that_ swiftly!"

Cogsworth was nagging a gravy boat that looked very feeble as it stopped and seemed to look back at Cogsworth, uncertain.

"What are doing? Don't stop! Go!" Cogsworth waved at it to move toward the Prince.

"Cogsworth!" Lumiere scolded. "Stop nagging the servers! This is my domain!"

"Hem hem, excuse me, but my domain is _everywhere_," Cogsworth reminded, unwavering.

"I thought you _wanted_ me to do my job, and now you're ordering my servers around as if you were maitre d' instead!"

"I've gotten used to carrying out your job since you haven't been _doing_ it!"

"Well now I'm here, performing my duties, so you can just—"

"Boys!" Mrs. Potts called from the open kitchen door on her tea cart. "Let the Master eat in peace! If you want to fight, fight in the kitchen!"

Lumiere hopped down from the table without hesitation; Cogsworth dropped himself down. Lumiere was at the kitchen door and opened it for Cogsworth, saying sarcastically, "After you."

"Yes," Cogsworth said rather snottily. "After me." And he waddled through as Lumiere thrust a lit hand to Cogsworth's backside, making him yelp and hop more quickly through the doorway.

"Oh for Heaven's sake!" Mrs. Potts cried, shutting the kitchen door behind her and turning onto the bickering couple.

"Keep your hands away from me!" Cogsworth continued, ignoring Mrs. Potts. "_Especially_ my backside!"

"That's what you get for acting so cocky as I was _politely_ holding the door for you," Lumiere said, crossing his arms.

"You're the one to talk about cockiness!"

"I am _not_ cocky!"

"Oh yes you are! You're like a peacock around those women, strutting around with the biggest ego I've ever seen!"

"I do not _strut_ either! I can't strut if you haven't noticed!"

Cogsworth put his hands on his hips. "Oh! Smart now, are we? Let me be more specific: When you had _legs_, you would strut around like a peacock! There, I repeated myself for you. Does that make you feel smart now?"

"Lumiere, don't even retort!" Mrs. Potts ordered as Lumiere was indeed about to reply to Cogsworth. "Both of you just stop your fighting!" She sighed. "Is there no end to your bickering?"

"Of course there is," Lumiere replied. "The end is just nowhere near."

"Yes," Cogsworth agreed. "The end will probably be…"

"When one or the other of us is dead," Lumiere finished.

Cogsworth thought about this and nodded. "Most likely."

Mrs. Potts shook her head tiredly at them and sighed. "You two…"

Suddenly the public dining hall kitchen doors opened.

Everyone looked at the intruder and Lumiere became confused. "Babette?"

* * *

Babette had found Lumiere talking to the Beast on her way to the kitchen and she had listened in, waiting for Lumiere to finish so to talk him.

"…Now tell me so I may judge for myself whether you need to be punished," the Prince had been saying.

"As you wish," Lumiere had said. "It's rather simple really; I have been spending the evenings entertaining the castle's women, and pleasuring myself in the process." Babette could hear him smiling at this and she rolled her eyes at the unpleasant memory coming back to her of him with the other women. "I was also making a little maid jealous along the way."

Babette face grew hot with rage; he had _lied_ to her! He had known she was passing by watching him flirt with the other servants and kiss them on the cheeks.

Lumiere continued, "It was quite amusing when I confronted her about it."

_Amusing_, am I?! Babette thought furiously. We'll see how amusing it is when I get to you!

She couldn't believe she had been about to apologize to him. He had just strung her last nerve—and he was going to pay.

Babette had waited impatiently for Lumiere to head to the kitchen after a few more words with the Master and another set with Cogsworth.

She hurriedly rushed to the public dining hall where another way to the kitchen laid. She shoved the doors open.

Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth and Lumiere all faced the doors and stared at her.

"Babette?" Lumiere asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you think me an idiot, Lumiere?" Babette questioned, ignoring his.

Even more baffled, Lumiere asked, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I heard in there, as you were talking to the Prince, that you had tried to make me jealous by flirting with all of those other women! You had told me differently! You _lied_ to me!"

"Ah the one time I lie to you, and you find out about it!"

"Why did you lie to me? I would've been fine with it if you had told me the truth!"

"That's not the impression I got when you were accusing me! How else would I have calmed you down?"

"Maybe if you had told me the truth and apologized—"

"_Cherie_, you know as well as I that I'm too proud to apologize about things like that! You should know; you are the same way!"

"If you loved me, you would swallow your pride and apologize for lying to me!"

"And if you cared enough for me, you would have stood up to me about Simone and risk apologizing for your accusations—"

"But those were in fact true, so I have no reason to apologize!" Babette cried. They were now in each other's faces as Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts watched nervously and moved their eyes back and forth between the two like a tennis match.

Babette turned away when Lumiere was at a loss for words, "All it takes is a 'My apologies' or 'I'm sorry' or even a simple '_Pardon_' would suffice. But no! We have to keep arguing like this." She glanced back. "Do you _enjoy_ arguing with me, Lumiere?"

"Of course not!"

"He enjoys arguing with _me_," Cogsworth had to add.

Lumiere faced him. "Well, yes, because I'm always right or you simply overreact."

"You are _not_ always right!" Cogsworth objected. "And I do not _overreact_! I always have a perfectly good explanation for being fidgety about a specific problem."

"'Fidgety'?," Lumiere cried, practically laughing at the absurd description. "You not only get fidgety; you become so nervous and restless that you sound like someone's winding you up at top speed! So much that you come to the point where you're entirely insufferable!"

"_I'm_ the insufferable one?!" Cogsworth cried in absolute outrage. "All the things you do—or _don't_ do is the best way of putting it—"

"Lumiere," Mrs. Potts interrupted, and nodded toward the kitchen doors.

Lumiere turned to them to find them swinging shut.

"Babette!" he called, rushing to the doors and glancing down the hallway to find her sweeping angrily away, feathers ruffling in her rage.

"Babette!" he called again as he ran after her. "Stop!"

She didn't respond in any way, shape or form, but Lumiere caught up to her and grabbed her, making her holler.

"Ah! Let go of me!" she yelled, struggling to free herself from his grasp.

"You're not moving until this is settled!" he replied.

She breathed irritably. "Fine! Just let me go!"

Lumiere did, but she began to move away again.

"Babette, what did I just say?" he cried after her.

She glanced back. "Oh when I said I wouldn't move, I was _lying_. But you would know about that, wouldn't you?"

Lumiere sighed. "That was only a little white lie—"

"Not to me, Lumiere. If you lie to me once and get away with it, you'll most likely tell me even more lies and then it'll become a habit. I don't want our relationship to become a lie."

"And it never will," Lumiere said convincingly, approaching her again. Babette didn't move away this time. "That was only one time. You don't have to worry about me lying again."

"Then promise me you won't lie again and apologize."

"I promise I will never lie to you again. And…I am sorry for lying to you; I was indeed trying to make you jealous. Please, forgive me."

Babette blinked and looked up, surprised; she had thought he had to press him even more for an apology.

"I…Thank you," was all she could muster after a moment of collecting her thoughts; he had looked at her so endearingly that truth emanated from his eyes and she couldn't help but stare. "Of course I forgive you."

"I should probably apologize for something else."

Babette raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked, wary.

"That I'm not going to stop trying to make you jealous," Lumiere said, smirking.

"I never expected you to stop," she replied, smirking also. "I need to get back into the habit myself; You must be reminded who you need to try to keep interested."

"I don't have to try with you _mademoiselle_."

"Oh really?" Babette inquired in false surprise, taking a step back. "If that were true, I wouldn't be here standing before you."

"You would be standing here either way," Lumiere pushed. "Making you jealous just makes you want me more."

"You sound so sure, _monsieur_," Babette said, refusing to be swayed. "Let me be the first to tell you that you are wrong."

"Am I?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Prove it!"

"Ha! That will be simple!"

"Why don't we make this _challenge_ of yours a little more interesting?" he suggested.

"I'm listening."

"The first one to make the other crack and make them confront the other will have to ask—no, _beg_ for forgiveness for trying to make them jealous, which will be me!"

"So confident," Babette noted. "It will be your downfall!"

"Well what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"I will enjoy seeing you beg for forgiveness for being the person you are!" she replied, agreeing to the challenge.

"No, it is I who will relish the prospect of you begging for mercy, _cherie_, when it is imminent that you will lose!"

"I don't need to worry about losing _monsieur_. I just need to remember to spare you the sight of some of my methods."

"I can handle anything _you_ serve."

"Don't be so sure. Again, your overconfidence could be your downfall."

"I'll be the judge of that, _ma chere_."

"Judge wisely then," Babette advised as she turned away from him and began gliding toward her room. "_Bonne nuit_, Lumiere."

"_Bonne nuit, mon amour_. And _bonne chance_," he replied with a smirk. "You'll need it."

"I don't need luck," she said with a glance back. "All I need is skill."

"You'll have to gain more to beat me," he taunted for an answer, but Babette didn't fall for it and continued on her way to get some rest. Lumiere did the same.

The war has begun.


	9. The Bet

And so the Flirter Wars went on, both Lumiere and Babette performing their best moves to woo and entreat all the servants around the castle, and each expecting the other to speak out for the other's actions out of jealousy and anger, for every time they saw each other it was when they were flirting with someone else. If there was a time when both were alone and they crossed paths, they only gave playful teases and taunts and snide remarks.

But neither swayed even the slightest.

This pursued for weeks that quickly turned into months. Neither expected this at all, and they both had second thoughts about this battle of endurance, for—and they would never admit this—they both missed their own flirtatious exchanges, their walks through the corridors, time in the gardens admiring the beauty and charm of nature and each other, and—oddly enough—the attempts from others trying to separate them. But after imagining the thought of begging for an apology from the other, it snapped them out of these thoughts and got them focused again.

They flirted with many servants, but some touched a certain nerve with the one who witnessed the encounter.

One of them was a man Babette happened upon as he was coming out of a broom closet, looking particularly pleased with himself.

He was a candelabra like Lumiere, only he wasn't gold, but silver. It was clear he was of a low quality in some way, but his face gave a completely different message; you would think this man was a lord just by his looks—and that's exactly what he led everyone who didn't know him to believe.

As he turned away from closing the broom closet with an expression on his young, gorgeous face that clearly stated he's been doing something naughty, he caught a glimpse of Babette staring at him with interest.

"Oh _mon Dieu_," he mumbled to himself as a smirk grew on his lips. "It's as if beautiful _mademoiselles_ are lining up for me. Are you?" He directed the question to Babette, expecting she heard the rest.

"Alas, no," Babette replied, hopping into her flirtatious state. "But I'd like to be the first in line, if you don't mind."

"And you may," he said, approaching her. "I'm sure there were others but I'll make a special exception for _you_."

She giggled. "Why thank you, _monsieur_, and may I know the name of this _fine_ attraction?" She gave a good sweep of him with her eyes.

"Pierre, _mademoiselle_," he said, bowing courteously. "It's an honor and delight to finally make the acquaintance of so beautiful a lady."

Babette giggled again. "You think _I'm_ a lady?"

"Of course, my lady. You cannot be of a lower rank, surely. I deeply apologize if you happen to be a princess."

She laughed. "I'm no lady and _certainly_ not a princess. Sadly though for I don't seem to deserve making _your_ acquaintance, a lord's."

"I decide who is worthy for myself, _ma chere_," Pierre contradicted. "And you have _far_ surpassed my requirements."

"Well if you're a lord, you're bound to have high requirements." Babette smiled. "I guess I should count myself lucky."

An unmistakable laugh came from behind Babette, who jumped at the sudden sound and whirled around to see Lumiere, but he was looking at Pierre. She glanced at Pierre, whose face was full of dislike.

"Still pretending to be a lord, I see," Lumiere continued.

"Who's pretending?" Pierre asked with the tiniest quiver in his voice.

"You know it's never polite to lie to a woman, no matter how believable the lie may seem. They'll find out the truth sooner or later that you're just a butler."

Pierre appeared horrified for a moment as he made a quick glance at Babette then speedily turned furious.

"Why do you always have to do that?" Pierre cried, stepping towards Lumiere, who continued to look smug. "Every time you ruin it for me because you think you're so much better at it than me!"

"Oh it's not that," Lumiere dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I mean, I _am_ better, but that's not why I'm doing it."

"Then what is it?"

"You're incompetent!" Lumiere replied, like the answer was simple. "You practice your charm when you're supposed to be working for me. Even _I_ do my work first—which reminds me: you need to be heading to the kitchen."

"You're not the boss of me! I don't have to work when there's _no one to serve_!"

"Ah that's where you're wrong," Lumiere said as he continued to smirk smugly, apparently enjoying harassing the young server before him. "We've been serving meals to the Master for quite some time. As you were busy flirting you wouldn't know about that. Now you do." Lumiere spun Pierre around and pushed him on. "Kitchen. Now."

Pierre looked back like he wanted to say something but thought better and went reluctantly down the corridor.

"Faster," Lumiere called to him. "You don't want me to tell Cogsworth do you?"

Pierre walked faster and as he turned the corner he gave Lumiere a murderous look and Babette a sly wink and flash of sparkling teeth.

Lumiere, still smiling to himself, began to walk away.

"Lumiere," Babette stopped him. "Did you forget the bet we made?"

"Of course not, _cherie_," Lumiere replied with a chuckle, turning to her for the first time.

As Babette opened her mouth again, Lumiere went on, "If you think I lost because I interrupted, I didn't; I interrupted only to remind him of his duties. There was no jealousy or anger involved from me, if you didn't notice."

"But—"

"I'm afraid you'll have to keep trying _cherie_," he teased.

"Yes fine," Babette said dismissively, "but you reminding him of his job was not the only thing you did. You interfered by making him look bad. That should count against you in some way."

"Perhaps it should…but it won't. If you don't recall we didn't make rules for this bet, which makes it very easy to find loopholes."

"Oh you can be so terribly aggravating!"

"But you still can't resist _ma chere_," Lumiere taunted.

"I can and I have been for a long time now," she replied, turning her back on him. "And I will continue to do so until you're on your knees begging for my forgiveness."

"Or the other way around," he added.

"Shouldn't you be off to dinner?" Babette reminded irritably.

"You're right." And he did something Babette was not expecting; he came up to her and kissed her right above her cheek.

"_Bonne nuit_, my little fluff," he said as he walked away.

Babette was transfixed for a moment as her cheeks grew warm and her stomach did a flip. She felt unbelievably light-headed and her heart was in her throat. She kept repeated her new nickname in her mind: little fluff—_his_ little fluff. She was his.

She finally was able to swivel her head to see him hop around the corner and out of sight.

Babette sighed. The effect he has on her…How does he do it? When he does things like that it's impossible to stay mad, no matter how much she wants to be.

And she needs to be; they still had a bet to finish. She needs to stay intent on making him jealous. The realistic part of her brain told her from the back of her mind that he's just trying to distract her and to snap out of it. She refused to believe that; he's not _that_ devious. It was also _very_ hard to get her mind off of what Lumiere just did.

Babette didn't know how long she had been simply standing there in the hallway, but once she came out of her thoughts, she planned on encountering Pierre again and trying to make Lumiere speak up this time. To do that, she needed to go over the limit she had set for herself.

She followed Pierre and Lumiere's footsteps to the kitchen, suppressing the traitorous feelings that were coming to mind.

* * *

He really caught her off-guard. The look on her face said it all.

He had to do something, just this once. He's tired of this bet that seems to have dragged out for too long. By now it didn't matter to him if he lost or not, he only wanted to speak to Babette normally without having their conversations be about the bet. He would risk looking like an utter fool if it meant a carefree—_bet_-free—night with his little fluff. If she would do the same, he doesn't know, but one can hope.

Besides, it had felt right to kiss her, even if it was only on the cheek.

Upon walking in the kitchen, Lumiere was surprised to see a glass flower vase of a womanly shape that held bunches of black-eyed susans. The florist was waving her handles as arms as she spoke to Pierre. She had a beautifully crafted face that was transparent except for her sparkling blue-green eyes.

"Veronique," Lumiere acknowledged as he approached the vase. "_Enchanteur_ as ever." He lifted her hand to his lips as she appraised him with glowing eyes and a brilliant smile, giggling behind it.

Then Lumiere was suddenly shoved from the side.

"Thank you for interrupting our conversation, _sir_," Pierre cried, sarcasm dripping from his words. "If you didn't notice, _I_ was speaking with her."

"Perhaps you forgot so let me refresh your memory," Lumiere said, unwavering. "You are here to serve dinner to the Master, not to get better acquainted with the others, no matter how attractive they are." He gave Veronique a quick glance and a wink, his smirk staying in place: Veronique laughed behind a hand. "Does that help?

"It seems to be coming back to you," Lumiere continued as his only reply from Pierre was piercing daggers for eyes and a twitching curl in his lip. "Now find out what you'll be serving to the Master from Mrs. Potts…Do you need directions? Go!"

Pierre finally turned and walked away, fuming so much Lumiere felt the heat himself.

He turned to Veronique and resumed as if nothing had interrupted: "It's been so long since I've seen your beauty brighten these halls."

"It appears you've been doing the same," she replied with a smile, noting his form. "But you always have."

"Where have you been hiding? It's the first time I've seen you in years!"

She laughed nervously. "Well I was actually locked in a broom closet and I was only just released today. It somehow got locked from the outside and I couldn't get out! It's very tiring after a few days to shout for someone to unlock the door."

"I can only imagine _cherie_; that's terrible! Why they even put locks on the broom cupboards is a mystery to me. It's not one of the finer ideas to the masonry of this castle."

Veronique giggled. "You're telling me!"

"How did you get locked in there in the first place?"

Her face fell and she started to blush furiously. "Um, well, I was simply heading in there to…to grab a—a tool for another servant and, while I was in there, someone—I don't know who because I had my back turned—slammed the door behind me and locked the door. I called for help and kept knocking on the door but obviously no one heard me. Before I knew it I became…this."

Lumiere noticed her sudden uneasiness and was suspicious but didn't bring it up. "I see. I can't believe anyone would do such a thing."

"I'm surprised myself."

"Lumiere!" Mrs. Potts called from the island.

"My duty calls, _ma chere_," Lumiere said to Veronique and kissed her hand in farewell. "It was a delight seeing you again."

"Likewise," she replied, a slight awkwardness in her tone.

As Lumiere left, he couldn't help but puzzle over Veronique's strange behavior.

She's hiding something, and he had to find out why.

Babette stood peeking into the private dining room behind the double doors, observing the proceedings as various objects served the Master his dinner. She kept her eye on one particular servant. As he was heading back into the kitchen, Lumiere luckily came out.

Perfect, she thought with bittersweet delight, still feeling like she was betraying him for a bet.

She didn't have these feelings before as she flirted with servants these past months, and she shouldn't let a simple kiss cloud her thinking. But she had to remind herself that she wasn't just flirting. Besides, she only wanted to end this bet so she could be with Lumiere again.

Babette headed to the kitchen entrance and pushed open the doors, instantly spotting the man she was looking for.

"Pierre…" Babette purred, her flirtatiousness on maximum.

Pierre looked up, saw how Babette was staring at him, and came forth with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eye.

"We weren't able to finish our little chat before and I was hoping we could get back to it," Babette continued.

"Of course, _mademoiselle_. Anything for you."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Really? Anything? I would _love_ to take you up on that offer."

Knowing what she had in mind, Pierre suggested, "Why don't we find a private place to 'chat'?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Babette saw the kitchen door open and a glint of gold, and she hurriedly said, "No, I can't wait that long. It must be now!"

Then she kissed Pierre with as much passion as she could muster. She could only imagine how Lumiere looked and she wanted to see so badly, but she kept her eyes shut. After a moment, a sickening feeling started to form and rise to her throat: the feeling of guilt and betrayal. She broke away as slowly as she could without losing character.

Babette refused to look at Pierre but glanced at Lumiere, and what she saw made her heart drop like a rock.

Lumiere was kissing Veronique. Her hands cupped his face as his arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

All forgotten, Babette cried, "Lumiere!" as Pierre simultaneously called, "Veronique!"

Veronique's eyes shot open as if she just realized what she was doing and broke away, averting her eyes and looking ashamed.

"I'm…so sorry," Veronique mumbled to the floor.

"I never thought you would betray me like this," Pierre said, tone full of hurt. "And with him!" He thrust a hand accusingly at Lumiere.

Lumiere was about to retort but knew he shouldn't get between them as much as he already has. He didn't even know they were a couple. But it was hard as he was already shaking with fury.

"He caught me by surprise," Veronique said softly in a small defense. "And I couldn't pull away; He's very good you know."

"A pathetic excuse," Babette muttered.

"I beg you pardon," Veronique said, her eyes full of sincere apology. "I didn't know you were together."

"_Oui_, she didn't know," Lumiere said in her defense. "Do not blame her."

"_Oui, oui_; Defend her Lumiere, when I literally felt my heart stop at the sight of you kissing her so passionately!"

"It's amazing how you make yourself seem like the only victim when I feel the exact same way! What were you trying to prove to me by kissing someone else?"

"You did the same!"

"You did it first!"

"You didn't _have_ to kiss someone else!"

"There you are avoiding the question again! Will you not give me a relevant answer?"

"Outside," Babette muttered and swept through the kitchen doors to the deserted public dining hall. Lumiere followed as he glanced at the other couple who had moved to the other side of the kitchen and were in a feverish argument of whispers.

He followed Babette to the servants' sitting room down the hall. When he came in, Babette was by the crackling fireplace, staring at the ground angrily and refusing to look at him.

"Well?" Lumiere asked after a moment of silence, crossing his arms. "What made you do it?"

Babette sighed and her angry expression melted into an ashamed one. "It was just to end this silly bet we foolishly agreed on. I figured that if you saw me kissing someone else it would, without question, make you speak up and finally finish it. If I suggested the end of it before it was resolved to you, I was afraid you would think I am not strong or confident, especially when you are so much of both." She gave a small laugh. "I know it was foolish of me to think that; I should know better by now." She lifted her head. "I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. Can you ever forgive me?"

Lumiere's somber look broke into a smile and he caressed her face as best as could, putting out his flames as not to burn her. "How can I not forgive the most beautiful woman?" He kissed her on the forehead and brought her into his arms, both immensely thankful to be in the other's embrace.

Lumiere pulled away to look Babette in the eye. "You know, I wanted the bet to end also, but I wasn't sure if you felt the same."

"We could have avoided this whole mess if one of us said something!" Babette smiled, and bit her lip. "Do you think we should help clear up the mess between Veronique and Pierre?"

"No. They'll take care of things on their own."

"I hope we didn't drive a wedge between them. I don't want to be the reason if they happen to break up."

"We shouldn't worry about it, _ma chere_," Lumiere reassured. "If they are meant to be, they will put this little incident behind them."

"I suppose you're right," Babette said with a smile. "You have that tendency to be."

"Except with you," he noted, grinning. "You are so unpredictable!"

Babette slipped out of his grasp, leaving him confused, and hopped onto a stool.

She giggled. "I know." Then she leaped onto the chaise longue. Lumiere got the point and climbed up to seat himself next to her.

After they got comfortable, Babette said, "Lumiere?"

"Yes, _mon amour_?"

"I have to know: why did you kiss Veronique?"

Lumiere looked away, a little uncomfortable. "I was furious with you when I saw you kissing that child the moment I opened the door. I had to show you how much it hurts, but please understand that I was blinded by anger. I should never have tried to hurt you on purpose. I regretted it as soon as I saw your face."

"I understand completely, _mon cherie_," Babette said, showing it on her features. "It was my fault in the first place. You take no blame for what happened. Why don't we just forget about it, hm?"

"Of course."

"Oh, and one more thing: Let's never make another bet like that again."

He laughed. "I cannot agree with you more."

Babette rested her head on his chest, but she couldn't get comfortable; his chest was too cold and hard.

She sat up abruptly, frowning.

"What is wrong?" Lumiere instantly asked, concerned that he might have done something wrong.

"Our forms," she said bluntly. "I can't hug you back or rest my head on your chest. I can't even hold your hand! I feel so restricted and it tortures me everyday."

"Do you think it doesn't torture me also?"

She only sat in silence, avoiding eye contact.

"Unfortunately, we didn't have a chance to get well acquainted before the spell was cast, and we might not be human for a long time. _S'il vous plait_, relax and don't think about that now." He chuckled. "We'll think about it in the morning."

Babette let out a small giggle and nodded, resuming her position with her head on his chest.

They sat in comfortable silence, both enjoying the other's company as the fire died and they both fell asleep.


	10. An Unsettling Uprising

"Babette! Babette, please wake up!"

Babette, one of the worst morning people, groaned at the unwelcome voice, "Go away Simone."

"I would, gladly, but this is an emergency!" Simone replied anxiously. "You _have _to come see this!"

Babette forced her eyes open and squinted at the maid. "Can it wait?"

"It could but—"

"Then let me rest."

"_But_ it is important you know now. It concerns you as well as everyone else in the castle."

"Fine, give me a minute."

"I'll wait outside." Simone turned, hopped off the chaise longue and withdrew to the hallway.

Babette sat up, blinking as much of the sleepiness out of her eyes.

Lumiere felt her stir and woke up also. "Was that Simone?"

"_Oui_. She says there is an emergency and that it concerns everyone in the castle."

"What kind of emergency?"

"I do not know, but it better be worth waking up for."

"May I come with?"

"Of course, I am sure _Simone_ would like that," Babette muttered.

Lumiere only sighed and followed her out to the hallway.

"Alright," Babette said to Simone. "This better be an important emergency."

"Oh it is," Simone replied, leading the way. "It's actually quite tragic…"

"What exactly happened?" Lumiere asked.

Simone glanced at both and faced forward again. "It's better if you see for yourself."

"Can you give us a hint?"

Simone paused. "It has something to do with the spell."

Babette and Lumiere exchanged glances. That can't be good.

They were all silent as Simone continued to lead the way. As they turned a corner, Babette recognized the hallway as the maids' room corridor. The door was open and Simone went right up to it.

She stopped and turned to face them. "What you are about to see is a little disturbing, so be prepared."

Babette and Lumiere looked at each other again before they followed Simone into the maids' room.

All the maids were surrounding one spot on the floor. Some were in hysteria and others were dead silent with horrorstricken expressions. The rest were whispering to each other.

The maids glanced at the new arrivals and stood aside to make a path as Babette and Lumiere approached.

Babette gasped. "Is that…?

"_Oui_," Simone replied. "Madame Margaux."

On the floor was an engraved feather duster; it _was_ Madame Margaux, but it had no face. It wasn't moving either. It looked just like a regular feather duster.

"We just woke up and found her as she is on the floor," Simone explained. "The spell must have changed her as she was doing her night-watching."

"So is she…gone?" Babette asked.

"We think so."

"If _she _turned completely into a feather duster, does that mean the rest of us will follow?"

"We do not know."

"I wonder what made her change before the others," Lumiere said.

"Please_,_ can you wonder outside?" Babette asked. "The sight is starting to scare me."

She hurriedly rushed out and Lumiere followed suit.

Babette stared at the ground, disturbed at the sudden turn of events.

"Are you alright, _ma plumette_? Lumiere asked, putting a comforting arm around her.

"No," she replied bluntly. "I didn't know I could turn completely into a feather duster. This means I could simply 'poof' be gone forever overnight! This changes everything!"

"Just relax—"

"Relax? _Relax?_" Babette cried, becoming steadily hysterical. "How can I? This is terrible! And we cannot do anything about it-!"

"Babette!" Lumiere cried, making her look him in the eye. "Don't jump to conclusions. There must be a reason for Madame Margaux to have changed before the rest of us. I have a theory but I need further evidence."

"Lumiere," Babette said with flirtatious smile. "You sound like a detective. I like it."

He grinned back. "I am glad you approve. Come on, I have some servants to check on."

He ran off as Babette followed close behind.

They stopped in the corridor lined with bedrooms.

"So who is your first suspect _Inspecteur_?" Babette joked with a playful smirk as Lumiere went up to a bedroom door.

"I think the proper word is 'victim' if not suspect. But to answer your question it's Michelle."

"I knew I recognized this hallway," she said with distaste. "You think she turned completely into an object too?"

"_Oui_. Shall we find out?"

He opened the door and showed Babette in before walking in himself.

Again, the only light in the room was Lumiere.

"Why does she keep the curtains shut?" Babette asked.

"She probably went to bed early for her 'beauty rest' when the spell was cast," Lumiere replied. "She closed the curtains so the sun wouldn't be shining on her."

"Like sleep would have helped," she added.

Lumiere climbed the vanity until he was on the countertop.

He expected a word from Michelle by now, but none came.

He shined the light towards the top of the mirror.

There was no face of Michelle.

"She's gone," Lumiere reported.

"It isn't much of a loss," Babette said to cover feelings of terror rising in her.

Lumiere hopped down. "I have to agree."

"Does this help prove your theory?"

"_Oui_, it does."

"Perhaps you can tell me what your theory is," Babette said as they left the bedroom.

"I was going to tell you after I determined it true or false."

"Oh," she said, understanding, a smile growing. "So you do not want to be _wrong_."

"I do not mind being wrong," he replied defensively.

"But you like to be right."

"As all people do."

"You know I will not judge you if you are wrong." She laughed. "Does this seem familiar?"

"I didn't expect I would be on the other end of this," he commented. "Alright. I'll tell you: I believe that Madame Margaux and Michelle changed into objects earlier than us because they were being inhuman, or not being a human enough, therefore turning into objects completely."

"That is probably what happened, Lumiere," Babette said. "I think you're right."

"I usually am, but I only need a little more proof to know that I am."

"Continue on _Inspecteur_."

Babette followed as Lumiere led her to the kitchens.

"Let me take a guess at this one," Babette said. "Are we checking on Jacques?"

"And you said you weren't smart," Lumiere confirmed with a smile.

"If he is not turned into an object yet, don't start fighting again."

"Only if he does not start flirting with you first."

He opened the doors.

No one was getting breakfast ready yet, which means it was before 7:30.

"Let's check quickly before servants start coming in," Lumiere said, rushing over to Jacques's drawer.

Babette waited as he was able to pull the drawer open.

"Is he in there?" she asked.

"_Oui_," he replied. "But he is gone too."

"So you are right then," she said as he climbed back down to her level. "All the servants who are rude, conceited and, well, inhuman are completely turned into objects. I wonder how many others are gone too."

"Well I just want to check on one more servant and he should be coming in right about…now."

Cogsworth came in through the kitchen doors.

"_Sacre bleu_," Lumiere muttered under his breath.

Babette laughed.

"Alright everyone, out of your cupboards!" he ordered.

Dishes, cups and silverware burst orderly out of the cabinets.

Cogsworth spotted Lumiere and waddled over, looking mildly surprised.

"Well, well, you aren't being _fashionably late_ today. I must say I'm surprised. Why, might I ask, because it's so _rare_, are you here early?"

Lumiere turned to Babette and quickly whispered, "How is he _not_ one yet?"

She only giggled and tried to hide her laughter at Cogsworth's confused expression as he glanced between the couple.

Lumiere turned back to Cogsworth, acting as if he didn't say anything before. "First of all, have you heard of the tragedy in the maids' room?"

"What tragedy?" Cogsworth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Madame Margaux was turned fully into a feather duster."

"What do you mean?"

"The spell took all the humanity out of her."

"You mean she's…"

"O_ui_. Gone. We checked on Michelle and Jacques and they are gone also."

"You're being serious?" Cogsworth checked, gradually becoming horrified. "This isn't some joke?"

"I do not joke about lives, Cogsworth. These servants are practically dead as of last night. For forever? I do not know."

"Oh this is tragic, terrible, dreadful, absolutely appalling! We have to alert everyone—"

"I don't think that's wise."

Cogsworth looked at him. "And how is it not wise?"

"If you tell everyone, you will only worry them. Only keep them doing their duties. I think that is why the others changed entirely before us. Michelle wasn't doing hers and she was confined in a bedroom with no contact with anyone, so who knows how long she's been gone. Jacques wasn't doing his duties either, and he was self-absorbed and obscene. Madame Margaux was doing her job, but was—well her actions have said enough, as I have told you."

"And you believe that's why they changed earlier than us?"

"_Oui_."

"You figured this all out on your own?"

"Yes, Cogsworth," Lumiere said, growing irritated. "I am actually still capable of human thought. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about you."

Babette fought to stifle a laugh as Cogsworth huffed at the comment. "You know what, Lumiere? I don't have time to think up witty replies when I have breakfast to prepare."

"I would think you had plenty of time being a clock."

"Ha ha, save your stupid puns," Cogsworth muttered annoyingly as he turned on his heel and walked away to order the dishes and utensils around.

"Do you have to stay and prepare the food?" Babette asked.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said with a grin, putting an arm around her.

"Oh I do not want to be the reason you weren't working."

"I think Cogsworth can handle one meal without me," Lumiere replied, heading for the doors.

"If you are sure…"

"You are all the reassurance I need, _cherie_," he said, holding the kitchen door open for her. "Besides, I believe you are the reason I am not completely turned into a candelabrum."

She turned to him. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Well," he began as he closed the door. "You know how Michelle, Jacques and Margaux have changed because they were acting inhumanly. What if the only reason the rest of us are not is because we were doing humanly things?" He gave her a sly look. "Like having a banter with a certain _mademoiselle_."

"So you are saying if we keep doing what we've been doing, we will not change completely into objects?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

"Well," she said, scooting closer. "That is reassuring, and remarkably simple."

"I told you not to worry."

"I will never doubt you again."

Babette had a strange urge to kiss him, but for reasons that don't involve making someone jealous. This disturbed her immensely and made her question herself. A thought of her form crept into her mind.

Instantly she became extremely self-conscious and looked down, thinking that she shouldn't.

This lead to Lumiere wondering what had made her look away, ashamed, and immediately thought of what he could have done wrong to get that kind of reaction from her.

"Lumiere," Babette finally said. "Maybe you should help make the Master's breakfast. I'm sure they would need your assistance."

Hesitant, he reluctantly replied, "You're probably right."

"Meet me in the gardens afterwards," she said, checking herself to make sure it didn't come out as a question.

"As you wish, _mon amour_." Lumiere made a small motion to reach for her hand and kiss it farewell, but stopped himself quickly, hoping she hadn't seen it.

"_Adieu_ for now," Babette said as she turned and walked away.

He sighed as he watched her sweep away and hopped into the kitchen, sliding down the door to the ground.

She had left him so puzzled and confused. Everything had been like normal and then she suddenly got self-conscious, practically unable to meet his eye.

And he forgets she doesn't have hands? He called himself an idiot for even allowing that thought to enter his mind, much more for it making him reach for the hands that don't exist. He desperately hoped Babette hadn't noticed in fear of offending her and making her even more ashamed of her form.

Oh the limitations of their current state! Babette was right. They can't love each other properly like this.

"How much longer will these restrictions last?" was Lumiere's last thought as he went to help with the meal.

* * *

Babette wondered why she had been so unsure when being about to kiss him. She had thought about many things of why _not_ to: she was still holding onto what she had been before, the girl no man could have; she feared the reactions she might receive from him, etc.

But _why_? Where did this sudden lack of confidence come from along with all these second thoughts? It made her uneasy that she had suddenly melted right at the thought of kissing him. She had wanted to. She had had the urge.

But does _he_ want to? Would he think she wasn't as strong-willed and resistant as he had thought? She wanted to keep that reputation; that's what helped separate her from every other girl. That's what made her intriguing. It would be like breaking an unwritten rule.

Besides, she thought, if she's going to kiss him, it had to be in the right circumstances. Being under this spell is not—at all. It would have to be perfect, if it happened at all. Also, they have to kiss at the same time or else it won't feel right.

Babette thought in the back of her mind that she was just making excuses for herself and should simply go for it without any hesitation whatsoever. But she had to contradict it.

When the time is right, she told herself. If it was meant to happen, it will all work out.


	11. Promise

**A/N: **Sorry for the serious delay. I wanted to write all the chapters and publish them in bulk, so all that are waiting are satisfied by the completion of the story. So I hope that all of you that have read it so far like it and are happy with it. Please send me some feedback or something! I love reviews, and you have no idea how long it's been since I had some reviews come in not a month or more apart! They truly do make my day and put me in a good mood if I'm not currently in one. :)

So enjoy the rest of the story!

* * *

As Babette had requested, Lumière entered the gardens after breakfast. There was a fresh morning breeze that brought the smell of dew as it whistled through the grass.

_The _dying_ grass_, Lumière thought, noting its yellowish tinge.

He glanced around, but didn't see a sign of Babette, and he knew she must be taking her time. She had seemed a tad disturbed at the end of their last conversation, but the feeling had been mutual.

So he sat on the edge of the fountain, as before, this time facing the late morning sun as it gradually made its way to the west, patiently waiting for Babette to arrive.

Babette came through the southern castle doors in a matter of minutes, her eyes trained on the ground as if in thought, but she wore a frustrated expression.

As she approached Lumière, she said, "My apologies, _ma chère_. I miscalculated the time and got distracted."

"There is no need to apologize, _chérie_," Lumière replied hurriedly as Babette placed herself next to him.

She didn't respond, but continued to stare at the ground forlornly.

"Babette, _mon amour_, what is wrong?"

She sighed, looked him in the eye and said, "You only have to look around to see what is wrong, or at least it is _one _reason for my depression."

Indeed, their surroundings were bleak: The roses encompassing the fountain area were wilting, the hedges of the maze were bare, and the fountain itself was devoid of water. The servants who had been in charge of the gardens' upkeep must have either lost purpose or were changed entirely into objects. Hopefully, it wasn't the latter.

"The servants around the castle have found out about Madame Margaux, thanks to the maids." Babette rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed with the group of gossiping silly girls, but resumed her previous saddened tone. "Now they are all losing purpose in their work. Lumière, they'll be dropping off like flies next! No time has seemed more forlorn than now. Have you not noticed any differences just on your walk here?"

He looked away. "I tried to ignore."

Babette sighed again, this time with guilt. "Oh, _mon amour_, I never like bringing the castle's problems to our encounters, and it makes me feel terrible when I ruin your spirits; I come to you to escape them in the first place. But this we cannot ignore. Not anymore. And I know you know this as well."

"You are correct, of course," he said with a glance at her. "But it is hard to admit that times are bleak to one's self."

There was silence and, they realized, it was much deeper and more eerie than nature would ever have allowed. No birds could be heard singing, no crickets were chirping, and the usual gurgling of the fountain was obviously gone. The only sound that could be heard was the wind sweeping through the wilted growth—and that in itself was eerie. No living thing besides them was present in the gardens. Not even animals were anywhere near the castle, let alone humans, unless you count the Prince.

As she thought of it, Babette wondered, _What of the Prince?_

"Lumière," she voiced. "How was the Master at breakfast?"

He grimaced. "I hoped you wouldn't ask." But he answered her question anyway, "The Master seemed to have dropped all manners and dining etiquette when we served him. Did I tell you he stopped using utensils?" Babette shook her head. "He has been using his face and hands to eat, like, well, a _beast_." He shook his head in bafflement. "After the years we've spent teaching him everything he knows, and even after this spell—which I'm sure was meant to teach him and us a lesson, no matter how unfair it is to us servants—he is still as stubborn, harsh, and angry as ever! He nearly threw Cogsworth across the room after Cogsworth commented on his beastly behavior and suggested he fix it, and then he stormed out on all fours, roaring like an animal. It is as if as we completely turn into objects, he becomes more of—"

"A beast," Babette finished, becoming more horrified as his words sunk in.

Lumière spoke seriously. "Babette." She looked up, still frightened. "As much as times seem forlorn and hopeless, you cannot give up. I do not want you to end up a lifeless feather duster."

"And I you, as a candelabrum," she added.

"It is getting more inevitable by the hour that that will happen if a girl doesn't stumble upon the castle, but I promise I will not be one until the last petal falls from that rose. I need yours."

"What if I cannot stop it from happening before then?"

He cupped her face in what had once been his hands. "You can. You already know how. Now promise me you won't surrender your hope."

She couldn't stop staring into his pleading eyes. How could she say "no"? If she said "yes", then she says she is willing to fight to the end of this curse, even if all is lost when the rose is wilting.

But how can she say "yes"? She knows she'll want to give up sooner or later. Why lie and make a promise that she knows she cannot keep?

But she won't be alone. She'll be staying as human as possible with the man who has saved her from herself. It would be poor reciprocation if she couldn't say "yes" to a simple promise.

_You know it's not simple,_ a voice from the back of her head sounded.

_But it's a promise to Lumière_, she replied stubbornly to it. _And he's starting to get angry from my hesitation…_

"Yes," Babette finally said somewhat breathlessly. "_Oui_, _je promets_."

He smiled, all anger vanishing from his eyes. "_Bon_. You were starting to worry me."

_I worry myself_, she thought, thinking back to her internal struggle with another voice in her head. "I hope you know that keeping this promise will be a little more challenging to me than you, what with your optimism."

"It is harder to be optimistic when others are the opposite, and being optimistic in times like these is difficult enough as it is."

"I will try my best, _amour_," she promised.

"_Merci, chèrie_," Lumière replied with a smile. "That is all I really ask."

Suddenly, thunder boomed as clouds covered the sun. Then rain slowly began to fall.

"We better get inside," he said.

Babette showed she agreed fully by leading the way to the castle doors. The rain started to pour harder as they slipped into the castle.

Babette shook the water out of her feathers and wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, I smell like wet duck."

Lumière relit a wick by blowing on it as he grinned. "Do not worry. I can dry you off quickly." He relit the other hand in the same manner. "We have some _rekindling_ to do anyway."

She giggled as he swiftly dipped her. "Just be careful not to burn me."

He grinned. "Haven't I always been?"

"_Lumière!_"

Lumière jumped at the sudden shout, dropping Babette in the process: She fell with a yelp.

Lumière's flames jumped with fury when he found the source of the voice. "What is it _now_, Cogsworth?"

"Well there's no need to use _that_ tone," Cogsworth replied indignantly as Lumière helped Babette off the ground.

Lumière faced him again. "I have perfect reason to! If you could not tell, I was busy!"

Cogsworth let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha, that's _one _word for it."

"Just tell me what the problem is before I lose my self-control and slap you!"

Cogsworth rolled his eyes, knowing that that was only Lumière's anger talking, but he replied quickly, as the problem was indeed important. "The Master left the castle and ran off into the woods, bringing back a dead wolf carcass. Lumière, he's eating the wolf like a wild animal!"

The bewilderment was imminent on both Lumière and Babette's faces as they heard this.

"We have to snap him out of it somehow," he finished. "It's not right, not right at all! I can't believe he would perform such vulgarity."

Upon hearing this, Lumière couldn't help but feel offended; He would rather eat raw wolf meat than a gourmet meal?

"Where is he now?" he asked.

"The stables," Cogsworth replied. "I'd rather not go in there. The sight makes me squeamish." And he showed it on his face to emphasize his point.

Lumière let out an annoyed sigh. "You can be one pathetic little man."

"Just go!" Cogsworth cried angrily, pointing in the stables' general direction. "And make sure you burn the remains of the wolf when you're done," he added as the couple walked away.

Lumière was about to retort rudely, still fuming, but Babette cut him off and said sweetly to Cogsworth, "I will make sure he does your command."

Cogsworth nodded approvingly as he turned and walked away in the other direction, his hands placed behind him professionally.

Babette looked back at Lumière as they walked. "I admit: it is very entertaining to hear you and Cogsworth argue, but there is a point where the bickering needs to stop."

"Can you blame me?" Lumière asked. "He made me drop you—which I implore you to forgive me for. I cannot believe I did that."

She laughed. "No harm, no foul, _ma chére_."

"I wish I could wind him up as much as he does to me sometimes."

"I have seen you do that to him enough already," Babette smiled. "Besides, I believe the job is already done."

He only laughed in agreement.

They went through the kitchen to the door leading to the stables. Unfortunately, it was still raining.

"Oh not again," Babette muttered sourly.

"If you do not move so swiftly, you won't get as wet," Lumière said.

Babette snorted at the absurdity of the comment. "And what scholar said that? That's preposterous!"

"It might sound untrue, but it is in fact the opposite."

"_You_ say. I don't believe it."

"Then prove me wrong." Lumière held the door open for her, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "Ladies first."

Babette eyed his smirk, and ran out into the rain, curving to the left into the stables, soon displeased as she found herself dripping wet and smelling of wet duck yet again. She shook her feathers furiously, getting as much water off her as she could, trying hopefully to get the smell off also, but to no avail, to her disgruntlement. Lumière soon joined her side, all of his wicks still lit. Only a few drops of rain could be seen on his golden metallic form before he wiped them off.

Babette only harrumphed in greeting as she realized she had been proven wrong, which earned a chuckle from Lumière.

"I'm not going to brag, _ma chére_," he said. "We have more important matters to attend to, no?"

"Fine," was her only response, not making any eye contact.

As they approached a far corner of the stables, they were able to hear growling and what sounded like Mrs. Potts trying to talk sense into him. Then the strong rancid smell of raw meat hit them like slap in the face.

"_Mon Dieu_!" Lumière cried, thrusting a hand to his nose. "That is _much _worse than the stench in the meat cellar!"

"I can barely smell it," Babette said and added bitterly, "My sodden feathers make sure of _that_."

"You can call yourself lucky," he replied, trying to get himself used to the rancid smell, and led her with a hand on her wooden back to the stall were the noise was coming from.

"I don't quite feel that way," she muttered off to the side, noting their situation. The last thing she wanted to do was witness the Master eat a wolf corpse.

"If you do not want to go in, than you do not have to," Lumière said, stopping at the stall door where the Prince was behind. "I would never force you to do anything like this."

"I might as well," Babette replied dismissively. "I'm already here."

"Alright," he shrugged before he pushed the stall door partially open.

The Master—or more 'Beast' at this point—clawed at a wolf carcass, bloody red innards on full display. He snapped his sharp fangs into it, ripping part of its remains and gulping them down whole, snarling throughout. It was hard to believe he had been human from the exhibit he prominently showed, much less one of such high nobility and rank, a future ruler of a large portion of France.

"On second thought," Babette mumbled, an expression of pure disgust with widened eyes upon her striking face. "I will just wait out here for you. I am sure I will not be of much help anyway."

"I'll try not to take too long, but if I do you can always go back inside without me."

"No," she said with finality. "I will wait."

As simple a gesture as it was, waiting for him, Lumière couldn't help but give her a small smile before walking into what felt like a lion's den.

"Make sure you come out alive," she teased as he began closing the stall door to hide her from the horrific sight of the Master's 'dining'.

He only smirked in reply before shutting the door completely.

"Now, Master," Mrs. Potts said tiredly. It was apparent she had been trying to convince him to eat a proper meal for quite some time. "Eating this corpse is hazardous to your own health. Please, let us provide you with a decent supper inside where it's dry and warm by the fire."

The Beast looked up for the first time at her, and said through a mouthful of meat. "I grow tired of your useless prattle! I do as I please! Leave me be!"

"You know, Master," Lumière cut in, keeping his tone light. "If a girl came by the castle and saw an action such as this, it wouldn't help start any romantic feelings that you need to get yourself out of this current state."

"But there are no girls wandering by, is there?" the Beast snapped cruelly.

"You never know," Lumière shrugged, overlooking the Prince's threatening tone.

"And _you_ would know?" the Beast shot with a look of daggers from his narrowed eyelids.

"I am not saying I know, sire," Lumière replied, becoming a little worried from his Master's glare. "Only that it could happen, and feasting on a wolf you hunted and killed with your bare hands isn't something that would provoke a girl to fall in love with you. You haven't forgotten about what you must do, have you?"

"How can I?" the Prince snarled. "I'm constantly reminded everyday when I wake up and when I fall to sleep! And why is either of you so concerned? What matters to _you_ on what I'm doing?"

"Because we care about your well-being," Mrs. Potts answered sincerely in her motherly tone.

The Beast laughed harshly. "You don't care! _No_ one cares! That's why I am now fending for myself! I don't need _any_ of you!"

And with that, he leaped over them and the gate, running out of the stables on all-fours with a last angry roar and out of sight.

"Well," Mrs. Potts sighed. "That went just splendidly."

"The spell must be changing his behavior," Lumière suggested.

"But how could he think such a thing?" she asked tearfully.

"The longer this goes on, the worse the situation becomes," was all Lumière could offer as an explanation.

They then heard the stall door creak, and Babette slipped through and came up to Lumière's side.

"Oh dearie, you heard all that?" Mrs. Potts asked sadly.

"It was quite hard _not _to," Babette responded.

Mrs. Potts let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how much more I can take of this. Almost eight years, it's been, and not a soul has come up to the front gate. I can feel myself aging; I can't move like I used to." She sighed. "But hope is all I have, all _any _of us have now."

Lumière and Babette could only agree silently, looking to the ground.

"Well, I'd better be checking on Chip," Mrs. Potts began after a depressing silence, and tried to lighten the mood with a small but forced smile. "Who knows what mischief he could be up to now."

The couple each made an attempt to return the gesture as Mrs. Potts hopped out of the stall quickly. It was unsettling that Mrs. Potts was now losing hope and not her usual jovial self. She was always the one to lift a saddened one's chin with ensuring and encouraging words. To have her admit she was nearly defeated, times were bleak indeed.

"Has it really been eight years, Lumière?" Babette asked as he looked to where Mrs. Potts had vanished.

"If Mrs. Potts says so, it must be true."

Babette tried with much difficulty to resist a flow of tears threatening to overflow over her thick-lashed eyelids. Thankfully, she held them at bay before Lumière could see as he said, "You recall Cogsworth's orders?"

"Of course."

"Do you see the problem at hand here?"

She glanced at the gruesome carcass, then what lay under it: straw. They were also in a wooden stable, an entirely flammable environment. The only way they could burn it was if they drag it outside, and as they listened, there was the slowest dripping of rain.

"Oh, can't we just put a blanket over it and leave?" Babette asked pitifully.

"As much as I want to go the lazy and simple route, it would be entirely unsanitary to leave it here; Maggots and such could infest this place."

"You cannot drag it out by yourself! And I cannot help you unless I happen to miraculously grow arms at this moment." She ended her comment sourly, silently wishing it would happen. _Better yet,_ she thought,_ make us all human again!_

"What else can we do?" Lumière said.

Suddenly, brooms and rakes swept in, causing Babette and Lumière to jump out of the way as they headed for the wolf corpse. They swept and raked the body out of the stall and right out into the slow shower in record time.

Rather surprised at the unexpected help that seemed to have come as if on cue, Lumière called to them, "_Merci à tous!_ That was very kind of you!"

They all bowed stiffly in their states and hopped away and out of sight.

"Hurry and light it before it gets too wet," Babette said hastily, wanting to return to the warmed halls of the castle.

"Not yet," he replied. "I need to make it flammable." He looked around and spotted a pitchfork in a corner. "You, _monsieur!_ Could you find a bale of hay and place it on the corpse?"

It hopped off and did as it was asked in response.

"Thank you, _monsieur_," Lumière said gratefully, and it returned to its corner. Lumière then proceeded taken both of the bands off of the bale so the hay spilled over the carcass. Anyone could distinguish it as a regular pile of hay now.

"Are there any pails present?" he called to the stable.

A couple swung themselves off of hooks on posts and hopped over to Lumière.

"I need you to get filled with water," he instructed, "so we can extinguish this fire properly when the corpse is disintegrated."

They went away to do just that at a water spout at the other end of the stable.

Lumière faced Babette. "It is actually quite convenient some rain is falling; hay is much more flammable when it's wet."

"It is?" she asked, confused. Wasn't anything wet impossible to ignite properly?

"It's one of the only exceptions," he explained before the buckets returned, filled to the brim with water.

"Alright," Lumière said to them. "I will light the corpse and it will take a couple hours or so for it to completely turn to ashes. But I want you two to keep an eye on it in case it starts to spread, and make sure the fire is completely out when the body is burned. Could you do that?"

The pails nodded as much they could without spilling water everywhere.

"Good," he said with nod and smile. "My thanks to you both."

Then Lumière approached where the hay started and lit it carefully, stepping back as it spread. The fire did so quickly and soon engulfed the entire corpse, now looking like a huge bonfire as the flames reached a little higher toward the sky.

The buckets of water hopped over closer to the fire, appearing to watch it as if fascinated, or they were simply watching it carefully in case it got out of hand.

Babette had been blinded at first and had felt a blast of searing heat, but her eyes had adjusted and she stared into the large fire as it crackled, the slight majesty catching her attention.

"Shall we return indoors?"

Babette faced Lumière as he offered a sconce to her and gazed at her expectantly with that ever-present one-sided smile that always managed to brighten her mood and make her heart flutter, and she couldn't help but compare the splendor of the flames of the burning corpse to that of Lumière's, but it felt silly afterwards to even think of doing so. To her, there _was_ no comparison; Lumière outshone any light or flame.

For some reason, at that minute she was momentarily dazzled at how handsome and striking he was—and this was him as an _object_. To think how he would look—_will_ look, she caught herself—when he's human. Babette had only had brief seconds to take in his appearance when he had introduced himself, and it was when she only thought of him as another flirtation. But now so much has changed, and she can barely remember what he had looked like when he was human.

Babette was out of her reverie before he noticed, and she blinked the thoughts away before she replied, "Yes, _please_. Despite the fire, I am _freezing_."

"I will warm you, _chérie_," Lumière said, wrapping an arm around her as she walked with him out of the stables. He _had _noticed that one second where Babette had been thinking, but all that had shown was this look of longing and adoration that seemed to match what _he_ felt for her before she had blinked that look away. If only he could see that look while she was human. Then he knows that he could share his feelings more prominently without any restrictions and no spell to somehow dull the feelings of love and passion for both of them.

She moved closer and looked up at him through her lashes, a flirtatious sparkle in her eye. "Oh, I have no doubt of that…"


	12. The Beginning of The End

**A/N:** We are now getting into the movie plot! I tried to write parts that weren't scenes in the movie, except for key ones, because we _are_ looking at the servants' point-of-view here. I'd like to advise you that since it's now in the movie plot, it won't be all about Lumière and Babette, but will be more general and will be more about the castle's inhabitants as a whole. But I managed to squeeze some flirty banters and conversations between just the duo this story was originally inspired by. Enjoy!

* * *

Part II

The only way you can see if time was passing if you were an inhabitant of the enchanted castle is if you gave the occasional glance out a window or you took a step outside. But only the former was achieved. As the last of the remaining servants bothered to gaze out of a window while passing idly by, they found that the foliage still alive were bare, the fallen red, orange and brown leaves spread throughout the grounds being swept away by the winds and rains of the autumn season. The rains became excessive and caused flooding as the hard untended grounds could not absorb the moisture presented to them.

Many who lived in the castle were oblivious—or tried to remain oblivious, as noticing the passage of time panged them—but others noted the change, still gripping onto the last of the hope that remained only to stay as human as much as they could and prevent themselves from slipping into the permanent void of being a household object forever. Out of all of the remaining servants, Chip was the only one to find hope without having to struggle for a grip on it, his young boyish innocence making sure of that. Mrs. Potts tried not to discourage this with her own attitude and was desperate to hide her own waning hope from her son, as she found his assurance quite refreshing when it was compared to the rest of the castle's residents. Cogsworth felt the same, knowing that if he showed his own melancholic thoughts on his features or acknowledged the fact that all seemed quite hopeless, that he would no doubt affect those under his authority, being head of the household. The mood of a crowd did depend on its leader, after all.

The Beast, however, never bothered to hide how forlorn he was when he actually showed himself from his room in the West Wing. All the servants who understood him well knew that he shows his own insecurity through anger and by destroying everything that came across his path, and they could hear as they happened to pass by or dare to come near the West Wing more furniture—or what remained of the furniture—being thrashed around his suite along with his fearsome roars that shattered the night and sent the crows residing in the nearby trees to scatter in a flurry while cawing their discontentment of His Highness' terrible fury. To all those around him, he had clearly lost all hope, having been shown no chances at all for almost a decade.

When he became tired of taking out his energy on immobile objects in his room (that thankfully weren't formerly people), the Prince directed his attention to the abundant wolves of the forest, hunting them like something of his form would do. The multiplication of the wolves was due to the forest having become deserted of humans, who usually approached the castle for festivities such as balls and masquerades, the numerous presences of them having made the wolves keep their distance. Or it could be like the spell's defense system, making sure the Beast doesn't succeed. The servants gave up trying to stop the Prince's continuous wolf feasting, and the silverware and china stayed put in their cupboards, their only use having been lost.

Babette noticed how eerie the dark halls had become. It was as if all the servants were just waiting for the last petal to finally fall so they can escape their restrictive forms and be free at last. She was extremely tempted to follow suit. Only the promise to Lumière kept her at bay. The idea of becoming a feather duster forever and never living out her full life that she knew resided with Lumière, and another thought of never being able to show him the love and passion she felt for him, really pushed her to be as optimistic as she possible could.

Lumière and Babette began to spend a larger than usual amount of time together, both trying to distract themselves from what's happening around them. Yet, when they flirted, the banters didn't ring out hard and true, because they both knew what they were trying to run away from. Despite this, they couldn't help but seek the other's company. Babette, especially, gained much comfort being with Lumière, and seeing him always reminded her of what she had to look forward to when (she refused to think "if") the spell is finally broken.

As the winds grew bitter, the Prince stopped leaving the castle to roam the forest, and resumed his habit of sulking in the West Wing. But he didn't come out to eat, despite the protests of Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth and Lumière, nor would he allow any other living thing access to his room, leaving the servants to try and convince him at his barred double doors. The Beast always snarled that he didn't want to be disturbed and for them to leave him in peace. They each had a hunch that he was only staring longingly at the hourglass of all of their humanity, the Rose. Mrs. Potts had caught a glimpse of the flower before the Prince had forbid any entry, and informed them that a petal had fallen off the enchanted Rose. Time has now become a crucial issue. The Rose was finally starting to wilt.

* * *

Lumière wandered the halls aimlessly. It was one of those rare instances that Babette wasn't present to distract him from his own worried thoughts that were cluttered in turmoil.

The Rose has begun to wilt. The day that they all had been dreading has arrived at last. There at the Master's door they had decided not to tell the other servants:

"_No one else must know that the Rose is dying," Cogsworth enforced sternly, gazing at Mrs. Potts and Lumière in turn. "The result would undoubtedly be panic and a complete loss of morale."_

"_I agree," Mrs. Potts said with a nod. "Everyone's already disheartened as it is."_

"_And that means _you!" _Cogsworth faced Lumière entirely and glared threateningly at him. "_You_ can't tell your little 'girlfriend' about this! She is no exception!"_

_Lumière had to let out a laugh at the term he used. 'Girlfriend_._'_ _Please! They were _French! _The only term that could define them was "lovers." Cogsworth was so naïve, as usual._

"_I mean it, Lumière!" Cogsworth said, responding to Lumière's eye roll._

"_You think that because she is a maid, she is a gossiper also?" Lumière asked, still amused._

"_I don't know!" Cogsworth cried, putting an emphasis on each word to make his lack of knowledge more pronounced. "But I don't want to take the chance."_

"_Taking chances was never your forte," Lumière commented, absently lighting and relighting his left hand. "I, on the other hand, see no consequences in keeping Babette informed."_

"_Can't you just listen to me for _once?" _Cogsworth interrogated incredulously. "Everything I tell you seems to go ignored, but usually it's you, doing _precisely _what I told you _not _to do!"_

"_You aren't exactly a thrill to listen to," Lumière replied nonchalantly. "Your voice is very much like an unwelcome alarm in the early morning, except you cannot be turned off, unfortunately."_

_The mantle clock looked about to explode into bits of gears and springs, but before Cogsworth could return an insult, Mrs. Potts cut in, "Cogsworth, I don't see why Babette can't know as well. I'm sure she can keep the secret to herself."_

_Lumière smiled at her. "Exactly!" He turned to Cogsworth. "She is one of us, oui? She can be trusted."_

"_Oh, forgive me," Cogsworth said sarcastically. "I never would have thought that of her as she is always in _your _company."_

"_There are many things you do not think about."_

_Cogsworth immediately stiffed at the comment and narrowed his eyes at him, placing his hands on his hips as he said, "And what is _that _supposed to mean?"_

"_Boys," Mrs. Potts said firmly. "Lumière, why don't you toddle off and tell Babette the news? We wouldn't want to keep her in the dark for too long."_

"_I can assure you that she won't be when _I_ approach her," Lumière said with a knowing grin as he lit both of his wicks to emphasize his point._

"_Yes, yes, Lumière,_ go!" _Cogsworth said, annoyed as he crossed his arms. "And spare us your stupid puns."_

"_Oh, Cogsworth," Lumière sighed as he placed an arm on Cogsworth's shoulders in a mocking companionship. Cogsworth shrank at the touch and stared at Lumiere's arm in severe distaste. "You know, mon ami, you should really learn to 'unwind' once and a while. You always appear 'ticked off'."_

"_Lumière!" Cogsworth began angrily as he shook off Lumière's arm. "You are completely and utterly _insufferable!"

"_Oui, Cogsworth. _I _am the insufferable one."_

"_I'm glad we could agree on something," Cogsworth said smugly, ignoring the intended sarcasm._

"_Agree on what?"_

_Everyone turned at the sound, and Lumière's mouth broke into a grin._

"_That Cogsworth is insufferable," he replied as he hooked an arm around Babette's "waist"._

_The clock gaped at Lumière. "But—but—you said—And I—"_

_Babette giggled at him and asked Lumière, "Are you always this torturous to him?"_

"_It is an addicting pastime," he admitted with a mischievous smirk. "Only when you are not around, of course."_

Oh how Lumière wished Babette would pop out from behind a curtain and divert his attention to her sweet, seductive voice!

Silently hoping for just that, Lumière looked up and glanced around at the drapes that hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows, but no feathers appeared. Instead, he was greeted by the pitter-patter of raindrops on the windowpanes.

He sighed. Another cloudy day. Winter was obviously about to invade, and soon the rain would turn to snow, and another year of the enchantment would have passed.

As he stared morosely out the window, a sign of movement caught his eye, and he turned his attention to the wrought iron gate. Behind the gate was a small pack of ravenous wolves, snapping and clawing at a stout man who was on the other side of the gate.

Wait—A man. An actual human being!

Finally! After all these years, a real genuine guest comes across the castle in need of its service.

Of course, they had all been hoping for a woman, but at that moment the fact that a person was running up to the castle was more than they had expected. They could not pass up this chance of reliving what they had been those many years ago. And who knows? Maybe once the man leaves well-fed, rested and happy, he'll tell his village and maybe women will approach the fortress at last.

Lumière laughed almost giddily at the sudden rush of possibilities. Well, he can't keep the man waiting out in the cold! He rushed through the halls until he was on top of the grand staircase. As he hurriedly hopped down the steps and approached the large entrance doors, he was tugged back by the arm unexpectedly.

"What do you think _you're _doing?" a shrill, authoritative voice that Lumière could never stand to hear on such occasions demanded.

"Being hospitable," Lumiere replied as he yanked his arm out of Cogsworth's grip, and continued toward the doors.

"Not without _my _permission, which I do not grant! What if the Master finds out?"

Permission or not, Lumière was going to follow his servant instincts that have been dormant for too long: He reached to open the door.

Cogsworth grabbed Lumière's arm again. "Oh no, you don't!"

"Oh _oui_, I will!" And Lumière shoved a lit wick at Cogsworth's hands.

Cogsworth yelped and waved and blew at his hands frantically as Lumière opened the door just a smidge before scurrying to the end table by the door with Cogsworth at his heels. They were stiff and frozen in their objects' basic poses before they saw a balding, white-haired man with a thick mustache cautiously peek into the foyer.

* * *

Babette sighed as she stared out the windows. More rain. She didn't think her mood could get any worse, but apparently she had spoken too soon; what better to dampen the spirits than a rainfall.

Not expecting to spot anything particularly interesting looking over the barren landscape of leafless trees past the wrought iron gate, it surprised her when she saw wolves by the gate, appearing dissatisfied and staring towards the front doors of the castle hungrily. What could have drawn them here?

Then Babette saw a hat that lay a little from the gate on the bridge.

She had to blink a few times and check herself before she could clarify that that was indeed a hat. The only thing that could have procured that hat was a human.

_Mon Dieu_. If there really was a human present in the castle at that moment…

Babette spun around and moved as swiftly as she could to the foyer. Right at the bottom of the grand staircase, she could see fire light coming from the crack in the double doors of the little sitting room where the Prince's chair was placed; she could hear voices sounding from it.

Then suddenly, she heard a growling.

She turned and found the Beast Prince running on all fours feline-like down the steps at the speed of light, anger emanating from his crystalline blue eyes, teeth bared.

Out of fear, Babette ran and hid behind the staircase and watched him enter the sitting room; she has learned to keep her distance when he is in such a state.

She watched as the Beast burst the doors open, the fire extinguished, and the Prince interrogated the one who dare come into his home. Lumière tried to explain that the visitor had been attacked by wolves, but the Prince cut him off and asked furiously, "Who let him in?" And Cogsworth (the little prat, Babette thought) tried to excuse himself and take any blame off of him. Then the Beast roared—out of the most outlandish of things—that they all betrayed him! Babette thought it ridiculous that the Prince could accuse them of any disloyalty and wondered if being cooped up in this castle all this time as a monster has gone to his head until the Beast barreled out of the sitting room and up the stairs with a pleading, portly old man, who was trying to convince his captor that it was a mistake and he had just been looking for a place to stay.

Silence only came from the sitting room, and Babette cautiously approached the dim area.

Cogsworth, Lumière, Mrs. Potts were all looking downcast, even happy little Chip. Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth looked up and recognized her with a small glance before returning their gazes to the floor, but Lumiere kept his eyes behind a sconce, appearing ashamed and humiliated.

Babette already knew what happened, and she didn't think they would want to recount it, but she only had one question that burned her curiosity. "Where is the Prince taking that man?" she asked softly.

Lumiere seemed to start slightly at the sound of her voice but only sighed sadly, keeping his face hidden. Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth glanced at her then to Lumière, both expecting him to answer. He looked her in the eye and said, "The tower."

"You mean…" Babette said slowly, "the jail tower?"

"There is only one tower."

Babette couldn't quite comprehend the Beast's capability of cruelty at that moment. "But… didn't that man only need a place to stay?"

They all nodded.

"I liked that man, Mama," Chip said, looking up his mother. "I don't think he should go to jail."

"I know, dear…" Mrs. Potts replied quietly.

Babette stared at the ground with eyebrows furrowed in thought, shaking her head.

"I know what you are thinking," Lumière said as he came forward. "But he was not like this all his life."

"Quite right," Cogsworth said, approaching them also with hands at his back as Mrs. Potts joined the group also. "His temper, his harshness, his superiority all started when he was around nine years old."

"What happened when he was nine?" Babette asked.

Lumière, Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts looked at each other in turn. And Cogsworth began slowly, not able to get the full statement out, "The King…The King—"

"Past away," Lumière finished, noticing Cogsworth's struggle.

Babette looked startled. "I never even thought about his…his parents."

"Soon after his father's death," Mrs. Potts continued, "the Queen moved on also in the same year." Babette couldn't speak. "It was a terrible tragedy. The whole kingdom was mourning."

"But no one more than the Prince," Lumière said. "There was an entire year where he showed no reaction to anything, no emotion. He was merely…there. Then he talked back to a maid cleaning his room while he was there, telling her to leave his room immediately and leave him in solitude."

"Quite nastily, actually," Cogsworth added. "I heard he used some choice words, though I don't know _who _taught him those…" He glanced at Lumière briefly but didn't make a show of it.

Lumière laughed. "Probably the servants in the winery. Sure he was swearing and acting spoiled but at the time, we did not even care if he showed no sign of manners. He was showing some emotion! We were positively thrilled!"

"Oh but it was short lived," Mrs. Potts reminded. "He had to learn his manners again."

"But he never quite did, did he?" Cogsworth said, trying to remember.

"Well, we found where we went wrong," Lumière stated.

"He kept saying he wouldn't do any lessons until he got all the things he asked for," Mrs. Potts reminded, "or he would make us feel guilty about something or other. He stalled us on purpose, you realize, because he knew we had to do anything he said."

"That is why servants should not raise a royal," Lumière said.

"What else were we to do?" Cogsworth asked. "We were all he had!"

"But we weren't enough," Mrs. Potts said sadly. "He needed his parents."

"Did he really expect us to bring them back from the dead?" Cogsworth cried incredulously.

"I think he did," Mrs. Potts replied.

"I hope he doesn't think that now…"

"Most likely not, Cogsworth," Mrs. Potts said with a small smile.

The trio all had smiles playing upon their lips as the reminisced of the days before events had started going downhill.

Babette observed the group gently. "You all really care about him, don't you?"

They all looked up from their reveries.

"We, as servants," Cogsworth said, "tend to grow…fond of the ones we serve, especially when they are good kind people that we offer our services to. The King and Queen were people we never wanted to disappoint and we served them willingly and happily. When the Prince arrived, we all loved him like he was our son, too, and even offered to take care of him when the King and Queen couldn't. But when tragedy struck, we became more of his family than he possibly wanted us to. We did everything we could think of."

"But he was too young to realize it at the time," Mrs. Potts finished.

The trio agreed silently. It was quiet among all of them until Mrs. Potts noticed Chip sleeping, having probably done so while they were talking. She nudged him awake.

"Time for bed, luv," she said, gently pushing him toward the kitchen. "Come on now."

Chip yawned in reply and hopped sluggishly along with her.

"It probably is time to turn in," Cogsworth concurred, and Babette and Lumière followed him out of the sitting room.

Right outside the room, though, Babette stopped Lumiere by saying, "About that man being incarcerated, it is not all your fault, you know."

Lumière sighed tiredly. "But I let him in."

"And what would have happened if you had not?" Babette replied reasonably. "A worse fate could have befallen him than being in the castle tower, like one involving those wolves outside the gate."

"I let my excitement get the better of me," Lumière persisted. "I deliberately disobeyed my direct orders from the Master to finally do what I have wanted to do for years: Serve a guest. I was literally blinded by the possibilities of opening the doors to that man."

"And you are not the only one, _ma chère_," Babette said. "_I_ was even excited to have a real human being visit the castle, but the Master was already barreling down the steps, and none of us are able to stop him when he is in a rage. You made the right choice, Lumière, and do not think any different."

After a moment, Lumière smiled at her, and she mirrored it. "What would I do without you, _chérie_?"

"You would be bored out of your wits," Babette said truthfully, giggling. "Now do you know where I want to sleep? On the chaise longue by the fire."

"How did I know?" Lumière said with a smirk.

"And how about you give me a head-start?" Babette said, winking mischievously.

Lumière reflected the roguish glint in her eyes. "Oh you know I want you to."

Laughing, Babette swept up the grand staircase with Lumière right behind. And Cogsworth rolled his eyes at them as they ran past.


	13. A New Guest

The next day, as usual, the weather was dreary, and thunder could be heard in the distance, but it did not rain. It was like it was waiting for the right moment to send its downpour from the heavens, like it was holding its breath too, in anticipation.

This aura was transferred to the inmates of the castle, but they didn't know the reason why.

Yet…

* * *

None of the servants dared visit the poor man who had wandered upon the castle so innocently. They came up with plenty of excuses: "We don't want to scare him, being talking objects and all"; "The Master will surely know and we won't live to see the curse broken!" ("Well aren't _you_ hopeful!"); "I can't—I got no legs!"; et cetera, et cetera. Besides, what was there to say to him? _Oh, the Master's an upright fellow. You just caught him on one of his (many) bad days._ They assumed, despite any reassuring, that the man would still be expecting the Beast to cook him in a pot sooner or later and eat him in a stew. _(He's a vegetarian…?)_

Albeit the circumstances in which the traveler was put in rather cruelly, Lumière remained optimistic (and perhaps he was the only one). This could be a good omen for the events to come: If one happened upon the castle, more are soon to follow. Very steadfast in this belief, he refused to be wavered by Cogsworth's _I told you's_.

Though Lumière's optimism can be contagious at times, Babette couldn't be quite convinced this was a good sign that things were about to change for the better. This is just a foreshadowing of the fate of all the inhabitants of the castle: The spell will take them all as the last petal falls off the wilting Rose and they will become prisoners of their own forms, never to be human again.

Yes, it was uncharacteristically depressing, so Babette continued to pursue changing her state of mind and imagine what it would be like to be back to her beautiful self, waltzing with legs and holding the hands of her partner (preferably Lumière) and dancing gloriously to music that echoed throughout the hall. But daydreaming about being human again wasn't quite as reassuring as she wanted it to be; it still wasn't guaranteed that the spell will be broken. To have that solid assurance would be exactly what she needed.

When one wants assurance, they would look to Mrs. Potts to hear her opinion on what she thinks will happen. Even though Babette recalls Mrs. Potts's hope waning a long while ago, what has recently occurred could have changed her perspective positively. So Babette inquired her on the subject:

"Mrs. Potts?" she asked as they were in the kitchens toward the end of the day. "Do you believe the old man visiting the castle means anything?"

Mrs. Potts appeared thoughtful as she perched on an upturned bucket, pouring piping hot water into a large bowl. "Well I think it would mean something to the poor _monsieur _locked in a cell. Why do you ask, dear?"

Babette straightened. "I simply wanted your opinion," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Mrs. Potts smiled knowingly at her. "I don't think that's all."

Babette sighed. "Well, Lumière believes that it has to mean there are others to follow the _monsieur_, that he is a good omen. I cannot help but think the opposite, as much as I want to believe that other outsiders will pursue the former."

Mrs. Potts slipped some soap into the tub and smiled in a fond way. "He would be the one to say that, bless him." Then she said, "Now, it seems logical to me that if that man went missing for a while, that his family and friends would wonder where he is, and look for him."

"But what if he has no friends or family?" Babette threw out there, a bit wildly.

Mrs. Potts laughed. "From what I saw in him, he seems to be a kind man who would have someone who cares about him. I wouldn't worry about it too much, dear," she added after Babette was about to blurt out another _what if_. "Things will turn out alright. And if things turn bleak, then at least we'll all have each other, right?"

Babette nodded after a moment, thinking. At least she'll have Lumière to the very end…

"Now where did Chip run off to?" she heard Mrs. Potts wonder out loud, bringing Babette back to the present.

"He must have slipped out to wander around," Babette replied, giving her most accurate guess. "I will look for him."

"Oh thank you, dear!" Mrs. Potts said, voice full of gratitude.

Babette swept through the kitchen doors as the swung closed, curving down the corridor, keeping an eye out for the tiny teacup.

As Babette turned down another hallway, she saw a quick movement for a fleeting moment at the end of the hall. Believing she had found the evasive Chip, she moved swiftly to catch up to him.

Glancing to the left at the corner, she was about to call to Chip, but her voice caught in her throat at what she saw and completely didn't expect: A human girl, carefully stepping through the halls, her soft leather shoes not making a sound on the thick red rugs that flowed down them.

Babette's mind was blank for a long moment, barely comprehending what she was seeing. Surely, she is a mirage or hallucination. But lo, as many times as she blinked, the girl continued to wander the corridor.

What could have caused Babette to confuse the girl for Chip? The girl was wearing a long cloak that flowed behind her—oh, that was what she saw!

The day, the day has come! At last! She has to tell someone now. Everyone must know!

Babette spun around and was gone in a flurry of feathers, running to tell Mrs. Potts, the nearest person she thought of to tell.

She burst into the kitchen, full to the brim with excitement. "Mrs. Potts, Mrs. Potts! There is a girl in the castle!"

Mrs. Potts turned in surprise as Chip popped up out of the mass of bubbles in the tub. "See? I _told _you, Mama!"

* * *

Well, that could have gone better.

Lumière listened in by the girl's door: Sobs could be heard through the rich wood.

The Master was definitely unaccustomed to talking to people who weren't charmed. Watching the whole ordeal in the tower had been a bit painful, especially with how the girl had reacted. The terms of which she is bind to is a perfect reason to cry about if you're in her shoes, particularly since she thinks she is all alone in this situation with a seemingly horrible Beast.

But he still couldn't believe their luck; He _knew_ that old man had been a good sign! And now they have a girl here! Now all they have to do is make the girl fall in love with the Prince…Beast…

Well, this will not be a walk through the gardens. How in the world is that going to happen in such a short amount of time?

At that moment, Cogsworth caught up, stopping before him and breathing heavily after sprinting all the way from the tower. Lumière didn't refrain from rolling his eyes.

"How…" Cogsworth took another moment to catch his breath, then cleared his throat and straightened up, looking composed in an instant. "How did the Master fare with the girl?"

"Take a guess. No—better yet—take a listen." Lumière referred to the girl's door.

Cogsworth leaned into the door and he immediately stepped away, sighing. "That isn't exactly what I wanted to hear."

"What did you expect? Love at first sight? Please, this is not a _fairytale_."

"It still would have been much appreciated."

"Nevertheless, you do realize this is not going to be easy, having them fall in love?"

"Why shouldn't it be?"

"Believe me, we all wish it could be," Lumière said. "But love is much more complicated then what it seems—not that you would know."

"Is this really the time for mockery?" Cogsworth asked indignantly.

"Perhaps not, but I manage to squeeze it in," Lumière said, absently lighting and relighting a sconce as a small smirk grew on his lips.

"Besides the obvious," Cogsworth pushed on, restating his earlier inquiry, "what else did the Master say to the girl?"

"Everything I told him to say."

"Oh…" Cogsworth groaned, resting his forehead in his hands. "He cannot even talk to her without assistance! How much worse can this become?"

"We could all be turned into objects and have to make the Master and a girl fall in love," Lumière replied with a monotonic sarcasm that he has displayed basically throughout the whole conversation. Lumière gave Cogsworth a look. "Oh wait…"

"You're not helping."

"Cogsworth," Lumière began, becoming serious. "All we can do right now is wait for dinnertime."

Cogsworth looked up hopefully. "He invited her to dinner?"

"Technically, _I _came up with the idea. And he made it into more of an _order_."

But Cogsworth didn't seem to hear this last part; he gradually became giddy as he stated his predictions aloud, "Oh, that's good! Yes, that's very good… We can manage to woo her with a fine dining experience, and over the main course they can become cordial with each other, and eventually…" He drifted off, imagining everything going as well as he wanted it to. Then he turned abruptly to Lumière and added, "And you will be in charge of preparing an elegant dinner that she will adore! It's perfect! Just too perfect!"

Lumière always took the initiative of snapping Cogsworth out of little fantasies such as this: "Cogsworth, what did I just say a moment ago?"

Cogsworth looked up vaguely from his reverie. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You cannot _plan_ love!" Lumière said like it was so obvious. "It is not guaranteed if the girl will fall in love with the Master. We can only make them face each other. It is up to them—but mostly the Master—on how they interact and if they can grow fond of each other."

"With us whispering in his ear," Cogsworth pointed out validly. "So everything depends on _us_."

"I think you underestimate him," Lumière said, but he could definitely understand where Cogsworth was coming from. "You have to try and find _some_ confidence in him that he can do the bulk of it on his own."

Cogsworth sighed. "Yes, perhaps you're right. I guess it's old habit, thinking that all the world rests on _our_ shoulders."

"It has sure felt that way," Lumière agreed.

After a pause, Cogsworth cried, "What are you doing standing around? Go prepare a feast!"

"_Oui, mon Capitan_," Lumière saluted mockingly, but went away to wake the stoves and dishes.

* * *

"The girl will not even come out of her room?" Babette asked the trio who had witnessed the tongue-lashing between the Prince and the girl.

Around them in the kitchen, where before the air had been filled with excitement, but was now quite the opposite, the dishes and silverware returned to their cupboards and drawers in a depressed state.

"She's only upset with the Master," Mrs. Potts replied. "But I think that's quite understandable; I truthfully didn't expect her to come to eat."

"Well, I, on the other hand, do_ not_," Cogsworth said snootily. "The girl obviously doesn't appreciate good manners when they're used."

"No, that is not it," Lumière said. "If you do not recall—or if you had become deaf conveniently at that moment—the Master did not start out with 'good manners'. He had acted like what he appears to be."

"And she had replied with a 'No, thank you'," Mrs. Potts added. "She just needs more time to calm down. She'll come out eventually."

"I hope so," Babette said, silently siding with Cogsworth on this. "After all the effort we put into dinner, and to come out with nothing."

"I know, _chérie_," Lumière said, putting an arm around her. "But it may not all go to waste. Just wait and see."

With a mischievous smile growing, Babette purred, "Why do we not find something to do while we wait?"

Catching the mood instantly, Lumiere replied in the same manner, "I am thinking you have something in mind?"

"You know I would never fail to disappoint, _ma chère_."

"Then, by all means, lead the way."

"With pleasure." And Babette skirted out of the kitchens, giggling, with Lumière right behind.

"Ugh, hearing those two is nauseating," Cogsworth groaned. "Now I'm _glad_ we didn't serve dinner."

"Oh posh, Cogsworth!" Mrs. Potts reprimanded motherly. "They're in love! What could be wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Cogsworth stated. "It's simply how they…_interact_, I suppose is what I'm saying."

"Oh posh," Mrs. Potts repeated. "I think it's sweet."

"Never mind that," Cogsworth said hastily, wanting desperately to change the subject. "We need to keep a watch on the girl's bedroom in case she comes—Wait! _Lumière_ was supposed to be keeping watch!"

"Now Cogsworth, let them be," she said calmly. "If she's hungry, she knows where to go."

"Yes, yes, of course," Cogsworth sighed tiredly, and waddled off to finish cleaning up, quietly hoping that if the girl _does_ come out of her room, those two won't cause her to lose her appetite.


	14. Hope

In other circumstances, if Babette saw Lumière running after another girl while they were exchanging banters, Babette would be easily compared to a boiling pool of lava, not to mention green as the grass with envy.

But the girl had come out of her room at last, and was most likely wanting something to eat, so Lumière had to hurry after her. This is probably the only time where this was acceptable to Babette, but that doesn't mean she had to be pleased about it.

Still, at least they got to spend _some _time together and alone.

Knowing Lumière and how much he's been wanting to get back to what he does best (in the kitchen, anyway), he's undoubtedly going to put on a spectacle of a dinner for our first and most important guest in years. This would be something to see.

As Babette swept into the kitchens, she saw immediately that every dish, piece of cutlery, and appliance was being put to work. She has seen it put to work before, but this was different; the whole kitchen was working harmoniously, like a full symphony orchestra, putting much effort and care into each dish like how a royal kitchen staff should. But its conductor, Babette noticed, was not present in the bustling kitchens. Babette peeked out to the dining room and saw her beloved beginning the proceedings, introducing a full course feast to the bewildered yet enchanted guest.

Babette had never seen Lumière be almost like a showman in his work, much less actually _do_ his work, having only been here a couple days before the spell was cast. So she had become as entranced by his performance as the _mademoiselle_ being served, becoming startled as she jumped out of the way for the carts of cuisine to be served as they sped out of the kitchens.

As Babette continued to watch on the sidelines, she felt the excitement emanating from every dish dancing, every fork in a kick line, every cup spinning and twirling. All the hope that had once been abandoned was being shown in simply serving the one who had found it and brought it back.

And then she felt it too, the excitement and hope. To think, that she had imagined all of them being lost in their own object forms while the Prince withered away into nothing, hating himself still for becoming the way he is, for making the mistake that caused his entire life to change. All of that despair and drear thinking evaporated into thin air, and Babette had the urge to join their cabaret-like show.

Jumping into the final chorus and sashaying across the table, Babette showed in her own way how the girl's presence here has affected her and the castle in such a positive way, and Babette felt more glorious than she's had in years. To finally feel like everything is going to turn out alright and that these dark times are over is an emotion that can only be compared to that of being in heaven itself. And to thank the one responsible for such a feeling makes it only greater, especially when they are looking up at you with their eyes dazzling, an enormous sparkling smile upon their face, because you're making them feel just as special.

The last note, the big finale, while champagne glasses exploding made it as if fireworks were going off, was so full of energy that they all had a vision of them being human again as they sang it right to the beautiful girl who could make the vision become reality.

Applause was all they deserved, having poured their hearts out in their performances, and it was given to them with great enthusiasm if only by one, yet her cheers seemed to echo throughout the large dining hall, so the claps were as if doubled and tripled.

They all had hope at last.

* * *

Walking back into the kitchens, it was evident that the atmosphere had improved dramatically compared to what it had been just a short while ago. Every dish, pot and pan down to the last teaspoon hopped merrily back to its cupboard and drawer, feeling like they achieved something great—which was pretty true. They were all thinking that this girl could really fall in love with the Prince and save them from a terrible fate.

Babette had wanted to praise Lumière for the extraordinary talent that she never knew he had, and how he never ceased to amaze her in a wide variety of ways. But our guest had requested to look around the castle, so both Lumière and Cogsworth had taken the initiative to make sure the girl doesn't go near the West Wing. If the Master found out she had dined without him, the repercussions would be devastating for sure.

Mrs. Potts hopped over to her. "Now I think that went rather well, didn't it?" she said with a smile.

"_Oui_, I agree," Babette replied, reflecting the smile. "It seemed to brighten everyone's spirits—mine included, I must admit."

"It is a very notable improvement, yes," Mrs. Potts concurred, nodding. "Everyone did so _well_, too."

"Yes," Babette said softly, thinking again of Lumière's wonderful performance. "_Oui,_ they did."

"That was so much _fun_!" squeaked an ever so exuberant Chip, skipping along to his mother's side. "Let's do that again!"

"Maybe tomorrow, dear," Mrs. Potts cooed maternally. "But right now it's your bedtime."

"Aw, do I have to?" Chip pleaded, his excitement being unhappily restrained.

"Go on, off to the cupboard." Mrs. Potts nudged him and Chip complied reluctantly, his hops slow and short.

As soon as Mrs. Potts had Chip in his cupboard, Lumière and Cogsworth burst through the doors, startling Babette and Mrs. Potts. Obviously in a state of shock, the first words out of their mouths were, "We lost the girl."

"You _what_?" the women cried.

"_Lumière_!" Babette had to chastise. They all knew the risks of letting the girl wander around under the Master's nose. If the Master found out, it was their necks.

"It was not our fault!" Lumière immediately stated in his defense, looking right at Babette. "The girl fooled us!"

"Bamboozled us!" Cogsworth emphasized, looking like he couldn't believe he had been tricked.

Babette glared at Lumière with extreme doubt. If she had had arms at that point, her hands would have been on her hips.

"I know what you are thinking," Lumière began hastily, "but it is true! We had suggested to go to the library and we expected she was following us, because she had seemed so excited, _oui?_" he asked Cogsworth and he nodded vigorously. "But we had only just realized that she was not with us."

"Where is she now?" Mrs. Potts interrogated hurriedly.

"The last place we left her was—" Lumière stopped abruptly, a look of horror slowly dawning on his face like Cogsworth's as they both turned to each other and muttered, "The West Wing."

Babette got wide-eyed. "You did not."

Neither Cogsworth nor Lumière spoke a word but rushed out the kitchen doors with Babette on their tail, all heading to the grand staircase. Halfway up the stairs, though, a distant roar was heard, and all of them froze where they were.

"Now let's not panic," Lumière said after a long moment of silence. "Maybe the promise will keep her here and not have her running off."

Cogsworth and Babette both appeared doubtful. Sure, the girl could keep her feet firmly planted in the ground and not disobey orders. But she made the promise to a Beast. One who separated her from her own father and kept her here without any free will. Breaking a promise like this most likely wouldn't cause the girl much guilt.

And sure enough, the girl came racing down the steps as she slipped her cloak on.

"Where are you going?" Lumière cried, the girl running right past them.

"Promise or no promise, I can't stay here!" was all she said as snow blew across the foyer, reminding Babette of that night the Enchantress had begged to stay, which left her feeling panged, until the castle doors shut behind the girl.

They all stared after her, crestfallen, their last hope having just waltzed out the door.

"This cannot be happening," Babette mumbled, staring at the ground and trying not to absorb what had occurred, knowing she would breakdown if she did.

"She will not last in that storm," Lumière said, still staring after her. "She cannot possibly think she can make it in a blizzard."

"Apparently, she's willing to commit suicide to get away from him!" Cogsworth stated quite hysterically.

"Cogsworth, she will _die_ out there!" Lumière shouted, grabbing Cogsworth by the shoulders and shaking him. "Wolves will get to her before the storm does, even on a horse! We have to tell the Master to save her!"

"Are you _mad_?" Cogsworth yelled back. "If you think we can convince the Master to do anything, I'd say _you're_ the one who has a screw loose, not me!"

"_Cogsworth_!" Lumière persisted, his flames burning brighter. "For the first time, I am asking you to think clearly, now snap out of it! I cannot bear thinking until I am reduced to nothing but gold dust and melted wax that a beautiful, bright young girl died in a snow storm when I could have done something. I am going to convince the Master to save her and you are helping me, whether you want to or not! _Comprends_?"

Cogsworth and Babette both stared agape at Lumière as he stood over Cogsworth with a fierceness in his eyes that neither the formers could have thought possible of him, leaving them both utterly speechless. Therefore, Cogsworth could only nod in reply, not even bothering to nag that he was head of the household and Lumière shouldn't dare be speaking to him in such a manner.

"Then we must hurry. Come on!" Lumière urged, already at the top of the stairs as Cogsworth struggled a bit to keep up.

Rushing to the West Wing felt so terribly slow to Lumière. Everything relied so much on time, and especially at that moment it seemed to pivot exceedingly on speed that the slightest show of delay would be the shove that decided whether they all lived or all perished, not necessarily all at once.

But they somehow managed to approach the Master's doors quickly, according to Cogsworth.

They didn't even bother to knock.

"Master!" Lumière cried, his voice panicked and hurried. "The girl has run away!"

The Prince stood with his back to them, gazing at the Rose as is his normal behavior. At Lumière's words, though, his back became erect, ears perking up.

The Beast turned to them, a cruel scowl that always made his servants—Lumière and Cogsworth being no exception—cower in fear. "_What_?" he growled ferociously.

Lumière swallowed, but kept going, knowing that he was doing the right thing. "The girl has left the castle and has run into a blizzard. She will not survive unless she is brought back here. You must go help her!"

The Beast made no change in his countenance and turned back around. "She has made her choice."

"Master, do you not want to make sure she is safe?"

Silence.

"Sire," Cogsworth stepped in, choosing his words carefully. "I understand that she trespassed your quarters when she was warned, but surely death is not a just penalty for simply being curious. She had no knowledge of the Rose being here, or for what it stands for." His tone became soft with some emotion reserved deep within his gears, coils, and springs that had managed to show itself at last. "Besides, she…she is our last hope. For all of us. Please. Reconsider."

A moment of silence seemed to glacially slip by as the Prince continued to stare at the Rose. Another petal fell from the sparkling bud.

Then suddenly, "Where is she?"

"We assume the forest—"

"I will find her." And the Beast flew past them, his cloak a dark blur in the dimness of the Wing.

* * *

Babette had remained on the steps, pleading with whatever godly force was out there that this did not ensure the end, that the girl would return and reconsider the Master. To somehow be convinced to think more softly of him, and to give him a second chance.

As if in answer to her prayer, the Prince dashed down the staircase, barreling straight through the castle doors as they blew closed behind him.

She managed to take a deep breath; the Prince will bring her back safely. He has enough determination and strength to not give up until she is either safe or can fight no longer. He's held out this long through the curse after all.

After finding a window that prominently displayed the grounds and the tracks that both the girl and the Beast had made heading into the forest, Babette watched patiently for both to return, allowing no doubt to enter her mind that _both_ will be walking back up to the castle through the billowing snow.

The storm was indeed on the verge of being dangerous to tread in. If anyone was in their house and looked out the window, most if not all would rather settle by the fireplace and avoid stepping outside the insulated walls of their home. Even from the height at which Babette observed the edge of the forest, it was a challenge to see past the snow flying every which way. She shivered; she could feel the bite of the wind through the pane of glass separating her from the outside world.

Babette heard the approaching shuffle of her fellow objects and felt the warmth of Lumière wash over her as he stopped close beside her. Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts were right behind, forming a line along the window's edge.

"Dearest me, you two were right about the blizzard," Mrs. Potts said.

"I can see why you might have questioned us," Lumière replied, a small smirk playing on his lips as he indicated his left where Cogsworth stood. "Cogsworth tends to over-exaggerate on many accounts."

"Hey!" Cogsworth cried indignantly. "I wasn't the one going on about how deadly the storm is and how 'we must get the Master', Mr. I-Can't-Bare-The-Thought-Of-A-Young-Girl-Getting-Frostbite!"

"_Oui, now_ you think that after the Master has already left to fetch her," Lumière said with a roll of his eyes. "If you believe this storm is really so minor, then _you _go help the Master find the girl. I can bare the thought of _you _getting frostbite."

"It looks like _that_ will not be necessary," Babette interjected, eyes set on the forest's edge in the distance.

Cogsworth and Lumière followed her gaze earnestly, and saw a dark shape emerge from the evergreen pines and naked oaks and maples: A horse carried a large mass on its back while a small figure pulled the reins toward the only safe haven for miles. As they came closer, it was determined that the leader was the girl in her familiar blue and white dress, but no cloak blew behind her. And the mass on the stallion's back was—

"It's the Master!" cried Mrs. Potts.

"What could have happened?" Babette thought aloud.

"Never mind that!" the teapot said anxiously. "We must get the fire started!" And she hopped away quickly with Cogsworth following her closely.

Babette, who had had been watching the girl and her horse continue to tread up to the castle thoughtfully, turned to find Lumière gazing at her.

"Should you not be helping the others?" she reminded politely.

"You are not coming?" he replied, an eyebrow lifting.

Babette returned her sights to the only two that could have any effect on the curse. "I would not be much help." She looked back at him with a grim smile. "I am flammable, remember?"

A doubting tone in his voice, Lumière said, "So you would rather be alone?"

Babette's smile faded and she glanced away again.

Lumière grinned knowingly, offered his hand and said, "Come on. I would preferably have you with me."

Babette smirked back and while walking beside him, said, "It is nice to know I am wanted."

Lumière laughed and leaned closer to say, "More than you _know, chérie_!"

She simply giggled in response, loving the fact that she was able to truly laugh again.


	15. As It Blooms

Oh, miracles really do happen!

The miracle they all specifically wanted to happen hadn't yet, but so far it was going better than any of them could have hoped for. At least it felt really good to see the progress the Prince and the girl, Belle, had made.

The story in the forest was that Belle was cornered by wolves as she rode. ("Told you so," Lumière whispered to Cogsworth, who responded with an eye roll.) But the Prince was able to fight and scare off all of the canines in the nick of time, but not without injury. Feeling obligated to help her savior, Belle placed the unconscious Beast on her horse's back and carried him back to his renowned armchair by the fireplace, and even helped with his wounds—despite his resistance.

Belle decided to stay resided at the castle, whether to grant the Beast a second chance or if she felt a debt had to be paid in some way, shape, or form, they did not know; the servants nor the Beast were being picky at this point.

During the first days, Belle was humble and modest around him, looking down to the floors as they wandered the palace halls, and she showed a bit of hesitation in starting conversation at breakfast and supper, mostly it seemed because she didn't quite know what to say to him. Whenever she spoke to him however, she was as cordial and polite as one could be, always giving him a small smile when she looked up and made eye contact with him from eating her gourmet meal. The Prince, his own social skills having been tarnished and inactive for a while, tended to stumble more on his words and give short answers, which didn't help much for discussion, but it was better than nothing.

The servants watched their relationship unfold excitedly, save for a few. Unable to be forced to sit on the sidelines—and not exactly used to that position in the first place—Lumière, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts provided as much advice as they could without purposely trying to give the young Prince overload. It was definitely a noticeable change though that when the Beast's head came close to exploding, his temper was contained surprisingly well by his own standards. He growled for them to most of the time talk more slowly and allow him a minute to absorb. He truly appeared determined and eager to please Belle and give the best impression that he possibly could, especially with how her very first recollection of him was perceived.

As winter passed, it was evident that the Prince's special feelings for the girl who fit her name so well were beginning to bloom; when Belle took her steed for a walk around the grounds, he was gazing at the girl from the safe heights of his balcony, his still-human eyes portraying a lad's who were clearly stricken with love. But for some reason he always shook out of his sightseeing to glance away, insecurity and dubiousness clouding his features and even his stature. It was only natural in his adolescence that he should have second thoughts and doubt his own feelings, having never given the time to consider such emotions as caring and affection. Yet Lumière, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Babette hinted and sometimes urged that he should begin to accept these feelings for Belle if they were to meet the deadline that was always in the back of everyone's mind those days; the Rose was slowly but surely desiccating behind its protective glass dome, a tiny pile of petals lay below it, shriveled and withered.

One day, perhaps having taken the servants' guidance to heart or he simply felt impulsive, the Beast announced he wanted to do something for Belle, and inquired on what he should do. Apparently, Lumière remembered how excited the girl had been when she heard the castle offered a library, and made this known to him. To the Prince it seemed rather _too_ simple and was a little doubtful, but Lumière made it guaranteed it would work, and Cogsworth was present to vouch for it. How could he question two of his esteemed advisors who haven't failed yet to counsel him correctly about Belle—especially when the two never agree on anything if not on very rare occasion?

The Beast followed the recommendation thoroughly, presenting his broad library to an awestruck Belle, who had been taken completely by surprise. She stared around the room in wonder, her head bending backwards to glimpse the volumes toward the high ceiling. She looked upon the Beast gratefully, seeing him in a brighter light, and the servants were there to witness the whole affair.

"Ha _ha!_" Lumière laughed triumphantly, nearly jumping up and down with glee. "I _knew_ it would work!"

"I have to admit," Cogsworth acknowledged, a grin of his own clear on his round face, "I'm very glad you suggested it. This is simply _splendid!_"

"It is _magnifique!_"

"Calm down, _ma chère_, they're going to hear you," Babette said at his side, and like the others, a trill of excitement was flowing through her, yet she was sure to suppress it better than a select few.

"_Oui_, I know," Lumière replied more quietly, breaking his gaze away from the couple who were more in the spotlight than they knew. "You are right, as always."

"What are you three doing over here?" Mrs. Potts said, approaching them with Chip on her tail.

"See for yourself." Lumière indicated the couple lavishly, and the mother's countenance broke into a large smile, her eyes sparkling.

"Oh my, will you look at them!" she whispered.

"I can already hear wedding bells!" Lumière confessed, and Babette giggled at his fond optimism.

"Mama," Chip said to his mother, "I have a funny feeling inside. I don't know what it is but I feel kind of… _bubbly!_"

All of the objects smiled at him knowingly as Mrs. Potts replied, "That's hope, son. I've been feeling it, too."

They glanced back at the Prince and Belle and saw that she was now reading to him by the fireplace while he looked at the words over her shoulder and listened intently to her lovely voice as she brought the story to life with it.

"I think it's time we let them be for now," Mrs. Potts suggested, and Cogsworth and Lumière proceeded to shut the library doors.

"You know what?" Cogsworth began, an idea forming in his mind. "I believe we should use this time to 'fan the flames', if you will."

"Come, now, Cogsworth," Lumière said. "They are doing just fine on their own. Why not let nature take its course?"

"What's wrong with a little push in the right direction?" Cogsworth replied innocently. "Surely they wouldn't notice it on their own; we would only be brightening the atmosphere!"

"What, exactly, did you have in mind?" Babette asked skeptically, preparing herself for a bad idea—just in case.

"It's nothing terribly drastic!" Cogsworth persisted with a wave of his hand, Babette's tone perfectly translated. "Why not clean up the castle for the first time in almost a decade, now that we have a purpose in our lives?"

The others looked at each other thoughtfully, and Cogsworth, seeing that he had their attention, continued eagerly, "We could have all the remaining servants help and perform their old duties again. If all goes well under my supervision—which it _always_ does—then we'll be done in no time. Maybe for once in this dark age, everyone could feel like they're _human_ again."

As if on cue, they all seemed to drift off and imagine having legs with feet, arms with hands, and proper mobility again, and they all sighed simultaneously. Of course, _everyone_ in that castle daydreamed at one point and another about being human again, but this time it was different; it was _very_ possible that their dreams were going to come true.

"Now," Cogsworth began, breaking out of his daydreaming abruptly, "to assigning areas to clean: I'll give you all a choice, since this is more of a special circumstance."

"How generous," Lumière muttered under his breath. But before Cogsworth could retort, Lumière quickly added, "I'll wake the groundskeepers and get the gardens back in shape."

"I'll spiff up the ballroom," Mrs. Potts offered with a smile. "I imagine it'll be used soon."

For the first time, Babette really had the urge to clean the dusty, cobweb-covered castle and make it gleam like it used to. "I'll go gather the other maids and work on the hallways and bedrooms."

"And I'll supervise," Cogsworth said, which had been expected by the other three. "Now let's get to work! Those two aren't going to be in the library forever!"

* * *

In all of the servants' joy, anticipation, and excitement, the cleaning and sprucing up took very little time once all of the remaining servants went to work. It didn't seem to take that long to begin with; they all were overjoyed to finally be doing something other than moseying around the castle doing nothing.

Getting the maids to work hadn't taken much effort, to Babette's surprise. Actually, it didn't take any effort at all; all of the maids got right to cleaning as soon as the polite command had escaped Babette's lips, gathering the brooms and dustpans to help, too. The amount of dust and dirt accumulated over the years amazed Babette, and she was glad to be rid of it all once she was finished.

Mrs. Potts hopped into the ballroom with mops and bails of soap and water behind her, and she got them all to work like a well-oiled machine. Once the tall velvet curtains had the dust whipped out of them, they were opened once more to reveal glorious sunshine, the light glimmering on the newly polished marble floor, columned walls and renewed crystal chandelier that reflected the sun's rays hundredfold all over the ballroom. Mrs. Potts then proceeded to mopping up the entrance hall, having gotten the ballroom done quicker than expected.

The gardens, having been in the poorest state, took the longest to bring back up. Wheelbarrows went to and fro, bringing fresh soil to designated planters as new flowers were sowed by shovels and watered by watering cans right behind them. Realizing this is going to take more than the gardeners, Cogsworth told Lumière he would bring more helping hands since the rest were all finished with their own duties. The entire castle crew was then flocked to the grounds to assist. The hedges were replaced, new grass seed was put in, the dead leaves were swept away, the fountains were scrubbed clean, and even the windows were washed. As the last flower was planted, Lumière did the honor of turning the dial on the pipeline to allow water to flow back through the gardens, the spouts on the fountains spraying the sky, the sun glittering off of the reformed pool of water and creating an iridescent rainbow.

All of the servants celebrated at their hard work and accomplishment, the energy emanating from them strong and unrecognizable to what it had been only a couple weeks ago, to which there had been none at all. Cogsworth was grinning all around, looking onto the servants under his authority with pride and noticing the extreme increase in everyone's morale. Lumière and Babette gazed at the fountain they had so often sat beside each other on, and mirrored each other's smiles, thinking how everything was going back to how things used to be.

Overhead on a balcony, Madame de la Grand Bouche had managed to squeeze out of her bedroom and was now perched to dive into the pool of water that lay below her. She rejoiced with her beautiful singing voice a long high note from her famous opera and jumped from where she balanced, dosing the servants crowded below with a tsunami. But none minded; most, like Babette who was laughing at the surprising and large dose of water she had received, shook the water off. Cogsworth, surprisingly undaunted, just opened his pendulum door and let the water flow out, praising the wardrobe's perfect dive and pitch. Chip, who had tumbling into the fountain from the wave of water, popped up and squirted water from between the gap in his two front teeth and cried, "Do it again! Do it again!" with his mother chuckling at his adorable enthusiasm. Lumière simply relit his wicks and was prompt to bring Babette into a dip, making her giggle even more.

And all of this went by unnoticed by the budding couple that they were all rooting for, who were still bonding over Belle's favorite books.


	16. The Waltz

"Is everything ready?"

"_Oui._ The table is set, the band is poised to play, and the food is waiting at the door."

"Splendid," Cogsworth said with a sincere smile. "Alright. I'll go check on the girl, and you go see if the Master looks presentable."

"I will make sure he is no less than dashing!" came Lumière's reply. Both parted ways on the landing, Cogsworth turning left while Lumière went the opposite way to the Prince's changing room.

This night was the most vital night yet. Belle and the Prince's relationship couldn't be better, and she has accepted the request to dine and dance with him—and it wasn't because she pitied him. Mrs. Potts said that Belle had confessed she was nervous about dancing with the Master and her stomach kept doing flips when she thought about—and she couldn't _stop _thinking about it. Belle had been smiling the whole time she had spoken, too. She has to like him. She has to _love_ him.

The servants had been working tirelessly to make this night perfect for the two of them. Something has to happen tonight: A confession, a kiss…_something_. Everyone had their hopes high tonight, especially since there were only a couple petals left on the Rose. So it all comes done to this night—and not a moment too soon.

Lumière opens the door tentatively. "Master? How are we doing?"

The Beast, all formally dressed and groomed, was pacing the floor, but not like a caged animal as before. There's been much change in him since Belle arrived, and the most noticeable difference was his fewer tendencies to break into a tantrum; He walked to and fro like a man, on two legs and with hands clasped behind him. He appeared very anxious though, as if close to biting his nails.

He looked up. "I can't do it."

"But of course you can!" Lumière replied enthusiastically, coming nearer with no more fear. "You look very suave and sharp, and everything is set to give you the perfect atmosphere to confess your love."

"That's just it! I can't tell her! I'm afraid she'll…" He glanced away, faltering.

"Afraid she'll what, sire?"

"…Laugh at me."

Lumière sighed, understanding. "Master, I know it is a great risk to take, and there is always a possibility that she might not feel the same as you. But tonight you must have the confidence to tell her. Nothing can happen unless you take the chance. You do love her, don't you?"

The Beast looked back at him, his eyes saying everything, yet he said, "More than anything."

"Then that is all you need." Lumière smiled reassuringly before Cogsworth peeked in.

"Master," Cogsworth said with a happy lavishness, "your lady awaits."

The Prince glanced at Lumière, who nodded encouragingly. He took a deep breath, straightened up, puffing out his chest, and let out his breath slowly, walking valiantly like a true Prince to greet his beloved.

Lumière met up with Cogsworth to watch the Prince meet Belle on the landing, who matched the beauty and grace of a queen in her golden ball gown. The music began, and Lumière and Cogsworth noticed that the couple couldn't keep their eyes off of each other, not even when they were eating (and both were glad to see the Beast was eating as elegantly as he could with huge paws). Then Belle stood, having finished only half of her plate, and ran to the other end of the table where the Beast was seated and asked to dance with her, grabbing his hands and leading him the ballroom. The Beast looked surprised and perplexed but pleased and gladly let Belle lead the way. Lumière and Cogsworth followed and observed the couple from on top of the piano where Mrs. Potts was already perched with Chip, singing a slow melody for them to waltz to.

At this point, none of them have seen either Belle or the Master stop smiling. It was so beautiful and wonderful, watching the two most unlikely to be seen with each other, a Beauty and a Beast, yet it seemed, as they danced together, with her small delicate hand in his large clawed one, another furry paw on her tiny waist and her other hand placed lightly on his forearm, and when he spun her with such care and sureness, her ruffled dress spinning and shimmering around her, turning back to face him with a light in her eyes which said something deeper than words can describe that equally matched his, as if they had always been that way, and you thought, _How_ couldn't_ they be that way?_, as if it was meant to be.

As though things couldn't get any better, Belle placed her head on the Beast's chest as they waltzed. Cogsworth and Lumière felt like cheering! But resigned to giving thumbs-ups, congratulatory winks and hurrah gestures.

Lumière heard a soft gasp behind him, and the woman who he was always so subconsciously aware of whispered, "Oh, would you look at them!"

Babette came to his side and Lumière put an arm around her, as was his usual welcoming gesture. "_Oui,_" Lumière replied, "it is better than any of us imagined!"

Babette laid her head on his shoulder, saying, "It is like watching a storybook come to life, is it not?"

"More so than not." Lumière then chuckled, smirking, and said, "You _wish_ it was just a storybook."

Babette giggled. "I would rather be a reader and not part of the plot is all; it tends to have downsides." She looked up at him meaningfully while a little smile played on her lips. "But I have found an exception."

As the last bars of music were executed, the Beast and Belle wandered to the balcony, still holding hands and each others' gazes.

"I think it's time to give them some privacy," Mrs. Potts said, nudging Chip along so he would comply like the rest.

They hopped off the piano as quietly as they could; Cogsworth didn't lose his balance this time as he dropped himself to the ground, and Lumière caught Babette swiftly as she jumped down after him.

"Well! I would call this night a success," Cogsworth commented after they were out of the ballroom.

"Without a doubt," Mrs. Potts agreed, smiling widely.

"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Potts, your ballad was exquisite," Cogsworth noted, his tone professional, yet there was sincerity in it. "Beautifully sung."

Mrs. Potts blushed at the praise. "I was just helping the mood, but thank you, Cogsworth. Everything turned out quite wonderfully. Was I the only one who saw the change in the middle of their dance?"

Lumière and Babette smiled knowingly, but Cogsworth tapped his chin and looked as he was trying to recall, eyebrows furrowed. Lumière pointed at him mockingly over his shoulder and smirked at Babette, who went into a silent fit of giggles that didn't go unnoticed by Cogsworth, who broke out of his reverie swiftly to glare at the two.

"Why am I the only one unaware of this?" Cogsworth asked like a child saying something's unfair.

"Maybe because you never experienced it yourself," Lumière replied, his smirk becoming more mischievous, "which is not exactly a surprise."

"Hush, Lumière, you're so cruel!" Babette said, nudging him, but she was wearing a smirk too.

He shrugged like he just couldn't help himself as Cogsworth looked about as tightly wound as he could go. He cried, "What is_ 'it'?_"

Mrs. Potts took the liberty of replying: "It was love; it was in their eyes."

"In both of theirs," Lumière confirmed.

"I believe so, yes," Mrs. Potts said, but she seemed unsure.

"Oh is that all?" Cogsworth asked, coming to a halt in the middle of a hallway. They had by then drifted away from the ballroom. "I thought you were talking about something more subtle that I happened not to notice, which is why I was caught off-guard; you should know I have an eye for detail."

"No, you have an eye for pointing out an extreme amount of flaws," Lumière disagreed facetiously. "And ones that no one else sees nor cares about." He placed a sconce on Cogsworth's shoulder with a mocking sort of empathy. "You are confused, my friend."

"I saw the fondness in their eyes!" Cogsworth cried indignantly, shying away from Lumière's touch. "That was quite obvious!"

"'_Fondness'_, Cogsworth? Please!" Lumière said, resisting the urge to laugh. "There was only _love_ in their gazes! _L'amour_ is what will break the spell, not mere _fondness_!"

"It has the same meaning!" Cogsworth said, exasperated. "I don't need _you _to teach me vocabulary!"

"Do you not think they would be done on the balcony by now?" Babette cut in, glancing at Lumière for him to not retort, for she well knew he had one fully loaded and ready to fire.

"Yes, anything to get away from this conversation that is bound to give me a migraine," Cogsworth took the liberty of replying.

Lumière laughed. "My apologies, _mon ami_. It is a successful night after all. It's only habit, you know," Lumière grinned.

"Yes, I know quite well," Cogsworth muttered as they continued to head toward the West Wing.

* * *

"He did _what?_" they cried simultaneously.

Mrs. Potts, Lumière and Babette all stood shocked at Cogsworth's report. He let her _go?_ Belle's just _leaving?_ What about when they were dancing? Wasn't a true bond formed then that was supposed to make one not be able to live without the other and vice versa? This contradicted everything they thought would happen. This was supposed to be _the night_.

"I'm afraid it's true," Cogsworth said, looking equally disappointed.

"So that is it then," Babette said, seeing this circumstance as a white flag of surrender waved by the Beast. Who goes through all of that trouble and effort to give it all away at the last minute? "It's all over, and she is not coming back."

"But he loves her!" Lumière insisted, not wanting to accept defeat. This can't be it. There has to be something else; maybe the spell breaks overnight! "He confessed it!" He gestured to Cogsworth, who bared the news and said just that.

"That's not enough," Mrs. Potts said sadly, shaking her head. "She has to love him in return."

"But I could have sworn she…" Lumière faltered, a crease between his eyebrows as he thought back to the dinner and dance.

Babette sighed. "So did I."

"It…It doesn't make _sense!_" Lumière said after a pause. "It was going so well, and she still wanted to leave?"

"We're not sure how the Master decided to let Belle go," Mrs. Potts said. "Right, Cogsworth?"

Cogsworth looked up, as he'd been pondering also. "Yes. I walked in right as she was walking out. And all he said when I asked why he let her go, he said it was because he had to."

There was silence as they all glanced at the window not a second before they saw Belle galloping through the wrought iron gate. An echoing roar that could only be the Master's bellowed through the castle, one filled with loss and torturous grief. They watched as crows flew from the branches at the Beast's misery and in retreat, flying as fast as Belle galloped.


	17. Battle

Well, that's that.

The castle became quiet after Belle left. Not exactly an eerie quiet, nor was it unsettling. It was just…quiet. When the servants wandered—if at all—it was slowly and with little sound.

Babette sat by a window facing the wrought iron gate, her head leaning against the glass. She surprised herself being this determined for Belle to return. Seeing them waltz together had altered her thinking; after noticing the adoration and love in their eyes as they gazed at each other… You couldn't fake that. It had to be real, and she had to come back.

Babette tapped her head on the glass just to make a sound, as the silence was pressing in on her like having your head under the covers. It was practically suffocating.

"You're still here?"

Babette looked up at Lumière, who approached her. She sighed. "All we can do now is wait and watch."

"Yes, but waiting and watching tends to make time go by much more slowly."

"Then what have you been doing for the last"—she glanced at a nearby grandfather clock—"thirty minutes?" Babette did a double take. "_Thirty minutes_? That's it? It has felt like hours!"

Lumière chuckled softly. "I've been doing the same, but I grew sick of it." He shook his head. "I do not think anyone should be alone with their thoughts at a time like this. It's much too demoralizing."

"Not if you are standing here," Babette said with a small smile.

Lumière looked away from the window and mirrored her smile. "You believe she will return then?"

Babette thought about it for a minute, but she couldn't contradict it. Not after this night. She nodded. "Don't you?"

He sighed and gazed out the window again. "I hope so."

Suddenly, they heard a shouting from down the hall. "_Chip!"_

Lumière and Babette both looked toward the sound to find Mrs. Potts hopping frantically towards them, checking each door that came up, all the while calling her son's name.

She saw them and asked in the most worried tone they have heard her speak in, "Have you seen Chip?"

Babette and Lumière exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"Oh no," Mrs. Potts mumbled, facing the floor, the creases on her forehead deepening. "Oh dear oh dear oh dear."

"What? Can you not find him?" Babette inquired, becoming concerned.

Mrs. Potts looked them in the eye. "No, I can't. I've been looking all over the castle because not too long ago I saw he wasn't in his cupboard, and there hasn't been any sign of him since."

"But where could he go?" Lumière asked, perplexed.

"Dear me, only God knows!" Mrs. Potts replied, clearly exasperated. "He can disappear for hours at a time if not watched properly, but the whole castle is aware of that. They know to report to me if Chip is wandering around by himself. But no one has seen him!" It was disconcerting to see her so troubled.

To try and ease her a little, Lumière and Babette said they would assist her search and gather the rest of the servants to help, too, instead of them sitting on their rumps and waiting around for something to happen. The flirtatious couple didn't think that it would take too long to find the little teacup with the whole castle alert.

Boy, were they wrong.

No one found any sign of Chip anywhere, and the servants were growing very anxious and worried. Even after scoping out the entire castle with all of its nooks and crannies, the cheerful little cup never turned up. No one could have assumed that he had gone outside the premises of the castle, yet what else is there to think when you practically turned this stone palace upside-down and right-side up again?

"Lumière, Mrs.…" Cogsworth stopped to take a few breaths. "Wait just a minute…"

The trio had been running around the castle for the past hour—without success, of course. It was rather futile to keep looking, but you can't admit that when the lost boy's mother is within hearing distance.

Lumière and Mrs. Potts came to a quick halt by a window, glad for the excuse to rest for a moment themselves.

After regaining some of his composure, Cogsworth straightened and leaned a hand on the glass, taking one more deep breath. "I'm becoming too stiff for this."

"I know," Mrs. Potts said. "I feel the same."

"Could we just rest for _one _more minute?" the clock pleaded.

"Come on, Cogsworth," Lumière urged for Mrs. Potts's sake. "You can rest once Chip is found."

Mrs. Potts sighed. "No." They both looked at her. "I know you two think it's hopeless looking for him after we've gone over and under everything in the castle."

Cogsworth and Lumière began to protest but Mrs. Potts silenced them. "I know it's true! It is. He must have gone off after Belle. He _was_ disappointed when he found out she was leaving. I just hope he's alright…"

Rain began to patter against the windowpane. Glancing into the dark of night, a fiery glow was coming from the bridge leading to the castle.

"What is that?" Cogsworth inquired.

They all pressed closer to the glass, and realized that the balls of light were moving closer. Through the downpour, they recognized the forms of people approaching the castle, but the lights were torches. Pitchforks were brandished into the air and glinted off the glow of the flames. A battering ram was pushing through the thick crowd toward the doors. Vaguely, from the third story, they could hear, "_Kill the Beast! Kill the Beast!"_

"_Sacre bleu_," Lumière muttered under his breath, his heart dropping. "Invaders!"

"The Master has to be informed immediately!" Cogsworth cried, his voice creeping into falsetto.

"I will tell him," Mrs. Potts said strongly. "You two gather the others and try and keep them from breaking down the doors."

"_Oui, _of course!" Lumière said not before Babette came running up to them.

"Lumière, the villagers—!"

"Yes, I know."

"What are we going to do?" Babette asked, panicked.

"Let's gather the others first," Lumière replied, trying to be calming. "But I'll think of something."

"Make sure you do!" Babette said, following after Lumière and Cogsworth.

* * *

_BOOM!_

The servants they were trying to convince to help them keep the villagers at bay suddenly became very eager to help. All the objects that could move rushed to the immense double doors.

_BOOM!_

Without words having to be spoken, tables, chairs, wardrobes, and et cetera piled on each other in front of the doors. Another shudder from the battering ram reverberated through the thick wood to them, and they felt the doors almost give in on them.

"Lumière!" Babette called to him. "This isn't going to work!"

_BOOM!_

The flame on Lumière's head started going off like a sparkler, and a fresh idea lightened his face. "Wait! I have another idea!"

Babette had to shout over another blow to the doors. "What is it?"

"Act natural!"

"_What?_"

"Pretend we are merely objects, let them in, and then surprise them!"

A feeling of understanding resounded through the collected objects, and they went to become immobile on the sides of the doors, creating a path.

One last _boom!_ and the villagers had busted the doors open, the trunk of a tree coming in first.

The villagers—well, men, because who sent women to pillage a castle?—stared for a moment in awe at the splendor of the parlor. As they walked in with torches aloft, the men carrying the battering ram set it down so they could explore, too.

The first of them especially caught Babette's eye: the tallest and brawniest of them all. With long dark hair, blue eyes, and a strong chin. He seemed to be a hunter, by the bow and arrows strapped on his back and the scalping knife on his belt. This man was clearly the leader of this expedition, confidence exuding from his stance and countenance. All the men following him were disappointingly unattractive compared to the first, with some hunched backs, missing teeth, and appearances that were clearly rustic—in the bad way.

A chill went through a few servants as they realized they were bearing pitchforks and pickaxes along with hungry expressions that exhibited greed. They would steal the enchanted objects away without even thinking twice! Why doesn't Lumière give the signal already?

A very short man with gapped teeth, and who never seemed to stray too far from the leading man's side, didn't hold a torch, and made an almost automatic grab for Lumière, an ample source of light.

"_NOW!"_ Finally!

And pandemonium began as every object jumped to life, watching the men's eyes grow wide and jaws drop, some emitting shocked yells and screams and bolting for the exit. For the villagers, it was as if the whole room was moving and hopping around, wanting to kill them for trespassing. Of course, that wasn't the servants' intention, but the villagers don't know that. Seeing faces on some of the objects scared some strict believers and turned them pale, thinking some dark magic was at work, and immediately fled, too, hoping and praying that the Devil wasn't on their heels.

The rest of the braver—or stupider—men stayed behind and tried to fight off some of the objects, brandishing their torches and tools at them to make the servants fear them, yet most seemed unsure, and the objects took full advantage.

Lumière and Cogsworth had been waiting…and waiting…and _waiting_ for the Master to show up and save the day somehow. But he didn't show. You don't want to defend your castle long enough to see if Belle _does_ return? Have you so little faith in her?

Oh Lumière couldn't think while lighting the men's pants on fire!—Or with a torch coming near him! What? And he's _melting_? He turns and—_cornered_? You've gotta be kidding.

Lumière's finally starting to feel the heat, and it wasn't very pleasant. And this stubby little guy was laughing at him! And now he's—jumping, howling and clutching his buttocks. Ha, who's laughing now?

Oh wait, that's Cogsworth laughing while he shakes a pair of scissors at the tiny man!

"Cogsworth!" Lumière cried thankfully, and ran up to the clock and kissed him on both cheeks.

"_Bleh!_" Cogsworth replied, pushing Lumière away, wiping at his own face. "You French—_bleh!_—need to find a less unwelcoming way of expressing gratitude!"

Lumière laughed and indicated the scissors. "I never thought you had it in you,my dear friend. But you could have been a little better on your timing."

Cogsworth rolled his eyes, lofting the scissors on his shoulder like a soldier does a bayonet. "Beggars can't be choosers."

On the other side of the room, Babette was chasing men around the hall, laughing at the fact that they looked on her with fear. Some realized she wasn't much of a threat and started making grabs for her. This didn't worry her too much; Babette had dodged men at her heels for years. To her, this was no different.

She didn't expect she'd get caught, however.

A grizzly hand appeared out of nowhere, and she let out a surprised yelp as it jerked her into the air. She caught a glimpse of the man holding her—a burly guy with curly black hair and beard—before she was flipped upside-down. And then the brute started yanking her feathers out! Babette had never felt so violated in all her life! She screamed at him to stop, but in her sharp pain and shock at being assaulted in this manner, no legible words came out.

And in an instant she was thrown into the air unassisted, revolving slowly as the cries of the thug who'd been manhandling her echoed up to her. It didn't occur to her until two seconds before she was above the ground that she could hurt herself once she did hit it, because she was just so glad she wasn't being assaulted at the moment! Then in the next second she was caught and looking up at Lumière flashing his debonair smile at her. If her heart wasn't beating fast already, it managed to flutter as if on wings.

"Oh Lumière!" Babette cried in delight, eyes sparkling, and managed to reach his cheek, planting a kiss; his lips weren't close enough without arms to get to them.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and then laughed. "He didn't ruffle your feathers _too _badly, did he?"

Babette had to giggle. "He caught me off-guard is all. You of all people know I am good at evading men."

"Only too well," he said with a smirk, setting her down.

She smiled sincerely, looking up at him lovingly. "Thank you for saving me."

Lumière's smirk softened. He lit a wick as he said jokingly, "I've had much practice."

A loud yell called both of their attentions, and they turned to see the last few villagers running off into the night. The servants were celebrating, jumping around and cheering at their victory. Cogsworth approached the couple soon followed by Mrs. Potts.

Cogsworth looked a bit smug, as if he had known the castle's inhabitants would win the battle. "We sure taught those brutes! I had them on the run from the start."

Mrs. Potts sighed, fairly exhausted, but was smiling all the same. "I'm just glad it's over with."

"_No!_" they heard someone cry. "Gaston, stop!"

The sound of the voice made everyone turn to the doors, which were still ajar. Belle was on her chestnut horse, Philippe. Their heroine has returned! But something was wrong: She was facing the castle and looking towards the sky, her face contracted in horror.

"Not quite," Lumière observed.

Seeing the doors were open, Belle jumped off of her steed and ran inside. Her eyes never strayed from the staircase as she ran passed the objects, her sight narrowed by worry for her Beast.

"The Master must need help," Lumière said, about ready to sprint up the stairs with Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts right beside him.

Babette swept outside into the rain and glanced in the direction Belle had been looking in. What she saw _was _horrifying: The strong, handsome leader of the villagers was dangling over the edge of the roof with the Beast clutching him by the throat.

"Yes, you must go help him now!" Babette yelled to them. He _can't_ be turning back into a beast. After everything that's changed in him…

Babette saw the trio was staring at her questionably for an explanation on what's happening out there. "There's no time to explain! Go, _now!_"

At her tone, they decided not to hesitate further; they rushed up the steps as fast as they could to the West Wing.

Though she was getting more soaked by the minute—and she would probably smell like wet duck again—it didn't matter anymore. Any moment, she could be turned into a feather duster ultimately or back into her beautiful, curvaceous human self. All any of them could do now was hope and pray.

Babette continued to watch from the outside, everything only a little bit clear through the rain and the distance to the West Wing balcony.

To her surprise, she saw the Beast put down the hunter all by himself. Maybe he _is_ too human after all!

And then Belle appeared on the balcony, reaching for him. The Beast climbed to her and hung onto the balustrade. Babette couldn't see clearly what they were doing, but she hoped it was a confession of love!

That thought was immediately obliterated from her mind, though, when she saw the dashing hunter climbing to the Beast, and the two lovers were completely absorbed with each other. The hunter brandished something in his right hand that glinted off of a streak of lightning.

An echoing roar erupting from the Beast, one clearly of pain, and Babette let out a gasp, as the hunter screamed too, losing his grip on the Beast's cloak and falling, falling to a terrible end. Babette couldn't believe her eyes; Belle gripped the Beast as he began to fall after the hunter and pulled him to safety.

Babette couldn't watch anymore. She ran inside, dripping with rain and tears. She knew the Beast must have been stabbed. What else could the hunter have been holding? It was quite distinctive, even from that distance. This was the end. The Beast has been slain.

Babette couldn't look at anyone as she ran into the sitting room with the Master's chair, settling by the dying fireplace; only a few embers glowed feebly at her.

She had imagined how this whole curse would end. It was usually them all being turned human and Lumière and her living their happily ever after together. But there had been occasions where she had thought about the spell ending with everyone an object permanently and with every once of humanity stripped away from them. If it was going to end that way, Babette wanted to spend the last few minutes of being alive with Lumière.

She didn't even know if she would make it to the West Wing before—_bam!_—they're immobile forever. And she couldn't bring herself to move with all hope already drained from her.

Babette tried not to think of the regret she felt at this point for giving up this way. But it was clear it was over. And all she could do was wait for something to happen, wait for her life to end, as she stared with shining eyes at the dying coals in the fire. And she was perfectly fine with waiting, for the first time.

It's true: Patience brings rewards.


	18. A Spell Is Broken

Sitting there, with head bowed and tears staining the hearth rug, Babette faintly felt herself give way to the curse. She closed her eyes and let herself fall to the ground, ready to feel weightless and free and to see a bright light welcoming her home. She tried not to feel anything on the way, but to relax and let the spell take its course.

With eyes still shut, she felt a wind blow around her and a sense of exploding out of her body—a sensation she has wished to feel for too many years. Laying there, Babette expected a void to come, but instead she felt a comfortable heat on her body and light shined behind her eyelids.

She waited, and waited, for that sense of weightlessness and freedom she had expected, but she only felt her mass on the hearth rug. She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion, an involuntary deep breath making her chest rise and fall under the weight of her arm on it.

Wait—her _arm_?

Babette's eyes shot open to find herself staring at the burnt-out fire, rays of sunlight streaming over her on the floor from the window. Her fair white arm arranged by her head so she could look right into her palm.

Trying to avoid getting too excited even though it was bubbling inside her, she twitched muscles she hoped led to her fingers to check and see if they responded.

And so they did.

Babette sat up quickly—her lustrous chocolate brown ringlets bouncing around her shoulders—to see if she had legs too, and a pair of long thin legs had their feet cupped in black high heels.

The former feather duster used her newfound hands to check her torso, and found the fabric of a maid uniform and an apron with a bow tied on her back. She ran her manicured fingers over her cheeks, her lips, her nose, her eyes and finally her hair.

_This is too good to be true,_ she thought. _I _have_ to be in heaven now._

Babette stood up carefully, using the chair beside her as support. Surprisingly enough, she managed to stand up straight in her heels quite easily, as if she had never lost her legs.

Walking was a whole different matter entirely; Babette had to stare at her feet to make sure she could put one foot in front of the other. Right foot…left foot…right, then left. Her hands abandoned the support of the Master's chair as she continued to make good progress without falling over. In a few seconds, despite her previous thinking, she began walking normally, and then speed-walking, and then running in her heels up the steps and down the halls.

From what she recalled, no mirrors had been present anywhere in the castle as a result of the spell, but Babette passed a wide one as she ran, coming to a halt and gazing at her reflection. What was looking back at her was a brown-eyed, rose-lipped beauty wearing a maid's headdress and an awed expression.

It was official: She is most definitely human again.

A smile grew to reveal bright white teeth in the reflection, perfectly mirroring how Babette felt inside. Babette fixed her hair in the mirror, making it bounce and twirl around her heart-shaped face while she made flirty faces at herself. This, being human, felt so real now, everything that had happened in the past decade felt like a dream.

Then she remembered: _Lumière_.

Him. _He_ was no dream. The battle, all of them being inanimate objects, the Master being stabbed, the Master being a _beast_—none of that had been a dream.

It all came back to her like a dream though, like waking up to being human had been a trance.

Fully alert and with a goal in mind, Babette had only two thoughts: Lumière (naturally) and the West Wing.

She began to run to the Master's quarters, but soon found herself being slowed down by her heels. She kicked them off and grabbed one shoe in each hand, sprinting much more efficiently barefoot down the scarlet carpeted halls.

At the foot of the stairs to the West Wing, she stopped, her heart pounding in her ears and out of her ribcage, slipping on her heels then so she wouldn't have a problem _reaching_ for anything, if you know what I mean. This was a very meaningful time and Babette planned to take full advantage of it.

She decided to pace herself on the steps and not be in too much of a hurry, even though Babette had been waiting for years to finally wrap her arms around Lumière and caress him properly without anything to hold her back. She only had a glimpse of a memory of how he had looked when he had been human, and it was so vague. To revive that memory was another thing she had longed to do but dreaded it would never happen. And now it will, and she'll have the pleasure of seeing him how he once was everyday for as long as they live.

Babette measured her steps and took them slowly to the doors of the West Wing, anticipating the moment they both find each other's eyes and view the glorious changes resulted from the love of a girl and a Beast.

One of the doors was slightly ajar, and she could hear merry laughter and excited chatter coming from behind. Her heart, which had been busy calming itself before, began to beat faster within her chest. She reached a hand toward the golden brass handle, pulled it open, and shyly peeked in.

"Mama, Mama!" Chip hissed eagerly, now a blonde-haired little boy, still with a front tooth missing in his smile. He tugged on his mother's skirt and had a finger pointing at Babette.

The plump woman turned, and when her eyes found Babette, she grinned widely. "Babette, dearie!" she said, as she rushed up to the maid to hug her. When Mrs. Potts pulled back to look at Babette at an arm's length, she praised, "Oh, you look beautiful, darling, just impeccable!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," Babette replied sincerely. "You look miraculous yourself."

Babette looked past the housekeeper and spotted the former clock, Cogsworth, all dressed formally in pressed clothes with no speck of dust or lock of hair on them, and with buttons and shoes shined to glistening perfection, who nodded to her with a small smile and she responded likewise; the Prince, in all his handsome glory—he practically glowed in how he stood proudly with bedraggled clothes from his former being and next to his and the servants' savior; and then she saw Belle, the tears she had shed not yet dried on her rosy cheeks with her soft brown hair framed around them wonderfully. Babette couldn't contain herself; she ran up to Belle and hugged her, trying to emit all the gratitude she felt toward her through it.

Babette pulled away to look into Belle's eyes as she grasped her hands in her own. "Thank you," Babette murmured, her eyes beginning to water. "_Merci beaucoup_ for everything."

Belle smiled at her as her own eyes began to fill with tears. "Of course. I'm so glad I could save more than just myself by returning here, along with..." Belle's eyes gazed into the former Beast's. "My Prince."

Her Prince wrapped an arm around her waist and Belle fell into his chest.

Babette looked upon them endearingly, her cheek leaning on a hand. "_Merci Dieu _for the both of you lovebirds. Speaking of which…" She glanced around the room again for whom she had been anxious to see. "Where is Lumière?"

"He went out looking for you," Mrs. Potts replied, laughing a bit at her circumstance on how that turned out.

"Oh _mon Dieu_," Babette muttered under her breath exasperatedly, and hurried back out of the West Wing to search for him further, just like old times.

* * *

Yes, _oui_, it is a miracle and no less, and it of course calls for celebration, but how many times must it repeatedly be said by the other restored servants?

Truly, it _is_ remarkable what Lumière just witnessed in the West Wing. The castle's normalcy has finally returned, where everyone as two arms, two legs and a head of hair (or wig, in Cogsworth's case at least). And it's only natural the residents are celebrating, but he has been told, "We are human again!" for the umpteenth time. It gets very redundant after the fifth and sixth.

And of course, no one seems to know where the ever elusive Babette happens to be. That is only typical in itself. There are even servants—only female though—who have denied any existence of a maid by the name of Babette while they bore sly grins and came very, _very_ close to him. But that is typical also. Lumière brushed past them, having only one woman in mind that he wishes to banter with…along with embrace, kiss, and other nameless things.

Arriving in the main foyer, Lumière kept his eyes open for a voluptuous young coquette with an unmatched beauty he remembers caught his eye that memorable day in the halls.

A cluster of servants on the side of the foyer spotted him and one of the men called, "Hey, Lumière! What a miracle, eh? We're human again!"

"_Oui, _I've noticed," Lumière replied hastily, hoping he was covering his annoyance well enough. He couldn't exactly blame them for being excited though. "Would any of you _messieurs_—or _mademoiselle_"—he added, spotting a woman among the bunch—"happen to have seen Babette?"

The group laughed lightheartedly as one said, "She went upstairs in a hurry. I assume she was looking for you, too." He let out another chuckle. "You should run to catch up to her; even in heels, she was sprinting like a stallion!"

"I do not need to be told twice," Lumière said with a laugh. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must put these newly acquired legs to good use. _Adieu_." And with a slight bow, he was hastening up the staircase once more.

Babette is probably in the West Wing right this moment, and it's only pure _coincidence_ that they ran right past each other to find the other. It would only be expected that once he gets back to the West Wing, she will have moved on to look for him somewhere else—and then commence the wild goose chases—_again_.

So why doesn't one of them stay put to let one find the other? Because who knows if the other is looking for them! Besides, they always find each other eventually, though it may take a while.

Opening the doors to the Prince's suite, Lumière honestly didn't expect Babette to be there; he had been keeping an eye out for her in the halls, but obviously hadn't come across her.

Slightly out of breath, Lumière commented bitterly, "This castle is too big for the life of me."

"I've been there," the Prince grinned. "Only when you're trying to find someone…"

"Were you looking for Babette? She just left!" Chip perked up. "Didn't you see her?"

"If I had, trust me, I wouldn't be here this quickly," Lumière said, and Cogsworth grimaced as he tried to shake the image out of his head.

"We have to see Father now," Belle said to the Prince. "You have to be introduced properly!"

"Then lead the way, milady," the Prince replied. Belle took his hand and they both hurried out of the room.

"Lumière," Cogsworth began, "the Master and his Mistress have decided to hold a wedding as soon as possible. We must begin preparations immediately."

"I didn't think you would hesitate putting us all back to work," Lumière said, then sighed. "Fine. I will begin writing a menu for the reception."

"As if the spell never happened!" Cogsworth said with a smile.


	19. Let Love Take Its Course

**A/N:** This is the fun chapter! And the last one, sadly. :'( But I loved writing this chapter, just because I've sometimes went to sleep thinking about how I would play this scene out! I believe it's very satisfactory. :) I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!

* * *

Babette entered the ball room, where many townspeople from the surrounding area mingled and danced to the band playing in the corner. There were few rich nobles from nearby countries and the far reaches of France since the wedding was a go within 24 hours. When the Prince and his bride said "as soon as possible", they meant it.

This was the first time Babette's had a break since the spell had been broken, what with preparing for the wedding, which meant wiping the castle spotless so that all surfaces were at least reflective. Babette had to depart from her search for Lumière once the declaration of the wedding had been announced.

As much as it had previously annoyed her to clean and dust, Babette decided she didn't mind it anymore; she was doing her job, which was the least she do for the Prince and Belle. Besides, it wasn't _that_ bad. The other maids, on the other hand, had to be pushed and shoved to work—I guess being human again is an excuse for not cleaning now?—so that took up more of Babette's time than she would have liked.

But it was finally time for all that hard work to pay off.

Before heading out on the dance floor, she checked herself: she wasn't exactly dressed for a wedding reception in her maid's uniform, but it wasn't as if she didn't look presentable. The uniform was still very flattering on her figure.

Babette circled the dancers and groups of chatting people, watching for Lumière. While she has been all over the castle cleaning, Lumière's been cooped up in the kitchens, so they still haven't seen each other yet.

And then she spotted him, standing by the windows and watching the proceedings. He looked even more dashing than she remembered, with golden brown hair that reflected the candlelight and his mesmerizing blue eyes. And he was tall and slender, which is exactly what Babette loved.

Babette has been anticipating this moment since the spell was broken. Her heart beat faster and her stomach did flips, but she urged herself to be normal and nonchalant. She doesn't want to seem too anxious. She's still a woman who belongs to no one man…right?

Babette crept up behind Lumière. "_Excusez moi_," she murmured in his ear, "but I'm looking for a certain _monsieur_."

Lumière spun around to find Babette in all her beautiful glory smiling coyly up at him. "Perhaps you could help me find him," she added, taking a step closer.

"But of course, _ma chère_," Lumière replied, smirking back. He offered a hand. "Might we look on the dance floor?"

"_Oui, oui_," Babette said, taking his hand, and he led her among the dancers waltzing. She then placed her right hand on his shoulder while he set his left hand on her waist, and they began to step harmoniously with the music.

"Oh!" Babette cried in feign surprise. "I believe I have finally found him, and he is quite a magnificent dancer."

"_Mademoiselle_ is too kind," Lumière replied. "You are very light on your feet as well."

"Even if they are not feathers anymore?" Babette smirked.

Lumière laughed softly. "Oh, I am glad they are not any longer."

Babette pouted playfully before she twirled out while saying, "You didn't like how I was before?"

Lumière spun her back to him, this time closer than before with a hand secured on the small of her back. "You know I did. I just like you better this way."

Babette giggled lasciviously. "I like you better this way, too."

The music flowed into a slower tempo, and everyone dancing followed suit.

Lumière smiled, sighing. "I wish I had found you right after the spell had been broken, before we were all put to work."

"I was looking for you," Babette offered. "Right after I clarified it wasn't a dream."

He raised his eyebrows. "You thought it was a dream?"

"Well, yes," she responded, feeling herself blush. "Until I found a mirror, that is."

Lumière kept a skeptical eyebrow lifted, and Babette added, "I saw the Master get stabbed. I thought it was a sure sign that it was all over. What else was I supposed to believe?"

"I understand, _chérie_," he said soothingly. "Don't fret about the past." He gave her a reassuring smile. "It's all behind us now."

Babette reflected the smile as the song came to a close. Everyone faced the band and applauded them politely. As she clapped, Lumière clasped her hand in his and brought it to his lips. She smiled at him as her heart fluttered within her chest once more.

The band began to play another song, but Lumière still held Babette's hand as he led her away from the crowds and onto the outdoor balcony, where it was much quieter and intimate, especially since no one else was out there.

It was nighttime, and the stars shone brilliantly in the deep black-blue of the sky. Roses of pink, red, and white grew on the vines entangling the balustrade, their sweet aroma filling the air.

"Hmm," Babette sighed in content, approaching the end of the balcony with Lumière, "what a beautiful night."

Lumière wasn't looking at the stars, but was gazing at Babette. She stared in an awed wonder at the sky as the moon was reflected in her luminous brown eyes, her scarlet lips slightly parted and perfect. Everything about her was perfect.

Babette caught Lumière staring at her, and asked, "I look quite different from before, don't I?"

"You look beautiful, as you always have," Lumière replied simply.

Babette smiled as she cast her eyes down, her cheeks burning. It hasn't changed, how he affects her. Hopefully, that will never change. The feeling she has around him has always been too good to be true though, like she could only have Lumière for the rest of her life and that would be enough. Yet, how can that be true when they both love to flirt with other people? Is it possible?

"Babette," he said, pulling her back to Earth. He grasped her hand in both of his own. "I know we agreed to not become too attached to one another, and that we both showed examples of that. Yet, I feel we always come back to each other."

Babette nodded, squeezing his hand. "We have."

"I know that we will stray at times," Lumière continued. "That is only expected, and neither of us can help ourselves." Babette smirked at this. "But you have never left my thoughts since I first met you." He shook his head with a small laugh. "I am sorry. I have never spoken like this before."

Babette smiled at him gently, understanding. "I know, _ma chère_."

Lumière looked right back into her eyes. "To be completely sincere, I have never loved anyone the way I love you, and I only hope you feel the same."

Babette couldn't help the rush of tears that came, but she held them at bay on the verge of her eyelids as she grinned. "I do, and I think I always have. I was so afraid of saying something because of what we had agreed on before, but I have always wanted to tell you."

"Why don't you show me instead?" Lumière said enticingly, leaning in so closely Babette felt his warm breath brush her face. Temptation almost overcame her as her urges erupted instantly. She wanted him so badly.

But she placed a finger on his lips. "Why don't we find somewhere more…exclusive first?"

Lumière glanced at the reception inside. "We would be giving them a tutorial."

Babette laughed, grabbing his hand. "Follow me."

"I do not know how long I can wait…" he warned teasingly, trailing right behind her.

They went around the perimeter of the ballroom swiftly, dodging factions of persons talking, drinking, and laughing. Almost, but not quite at the exit, Lumière caught Babette around the waist and proceeded to kiss her on the neck. Babette moaned in pleasure, giggling, but had to move away, interlocking their fingers. "Wait just a moment more, _amour_."

"I cannot resist, _mon chéri_," Lumière said with a mischievous smirk. "I never could."

"I love to hear you admit it," Babette replied, returning the smirk.

With the servants' sitting room just down the hall, Babette let go of his hand and ran ahead, letting him chase after her. She opened the doors and right as she went in, Lumière swept her up into his arms.

"Ha ha!" he laughed triumphantly. "You cannot run away from me so easily anymore!"

"Only because I _wanted_ you to catch me this time," Babette replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Lumière laid her on the chaise and he did the same, and then, at last, their lips met.

Sparks instantly flew, and the feeling alighted both of their nerves to the fingertips. Passion exuded from them as they kissed. Babette ran her fingers through his hair as Lumière felt all of her curves in all of the right places.

It was the best sensation in the world. Babette had never been this passionate with any guy, or even given them the chance to, and Lumière has been caught in a few acts of guilty pleasure (by Babette, usually) but this was the first time he felt something deeper with a woman: true love.

Their fervent kissing cooled down after so long—for neither of them really knew—with Babette's head laying on Lumière's chest, both stretched out comfortably on the chaise. The fire burned in the hearth, its soft glow settling across them.

"Was it worth it?" Babette asked after listening to the fire crackle and Lumière's breathing and heartbeat through his chest.

"Hmm?" Lumière hummed, preoccupied with Babette's hand, kissing each of her fingertips.

She looked up at him through her long lashes. "Was it worth it, waiting for this moment to finally, well, be human?"

"Without a doubt," he replied, stroking her chocolate curls. "You know that as well as I."

"I have always envisioned it, but"—Babette snuggled her head into the crook of his neck—"I never imagined it would be this wonderful. I should have expected it though; how could it _not_ be with the perfect man?" She sighed in contentment as Lumière kissed her hair. "_Je t'aime,_ Lumière."

"I love to hear you admit it," he mimicked playfully. Babette took on a slightly hurt countenance. He tried to make up for it with a kiss, but she turned away, straightening up on the chaise and crossing her arms.

"_Vous savez je t'adore_. Babette," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"Then come out with it," she snapped, looking right into his eyes seriously. "Say the words I want to hear."

"Anything for you," he murmured suavely. He tilted her chin up and brought her lips to his, merely pecking them before saying, "_Je t'aime,_ my little fluff, _tellement beaucoup_."

Babette smiled, clearly satisfied, and drew his lips to hers, arms around his shoulders. Lumière pulled her onto his lap, savoring the kiss and making it long and slow.

He knows he won't be able to get enough of her in the years to come, but he hoped that he will provide enough of himself for her, _l'amour de sa vie_.

For everything that she's gone through with other men, it tasted so sweet to have a man she could count on. Pure bliss was all that could be felt in her, in both of them.

It was the happiest moment of her life.

* * *

After dismissing the guests and making sure all of them departed safely in their carriages, Cogsworth fell into a chair where Belle, her new husband, Mrs. Potts, and Chip sat, even though it was _way_ past his bedtime. He was still bubbling with energy all the same. Cogsworth was quite oppositely exhausted, letting out a great sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

"I'm exhausted," he groaned redundantly.

"But Adam and I thought it went really well," Belle encouraged, hoping to make him feel it had all been worth the effort. "Everyone had a great time."

Cogsworth perked up. "Did they?" He fixed his jacket and sat straighter. "Only as expected." He then stood up from the table. "Now where is that no good…well, I can't call him a stick of wax now, can I?"

Mrs. Potts smiled knowingly. "He went to find someplace private with Babette."

Cogsworth rolled his eyes, irritated. "Of _course_ they did! Don't they know they have to clean the ballroom up like everyone else?"

"You would understand if you knew how they felt," Mrs. Potts said.

Then as if on cue, the former wardrobe glided over in one of her extravagant ball gowns with lace and ruffles everywhere, a sash draped around her arms.

"Cogsworth!" she called in her operatic voice. "Oh, it's so marvelous to sing again! It was the best I've felt since performing at the Royal Opera for the King!"

"Yes, I know, my dear," Cogsworth replied, his tone softening as he grinned at her. "You were divine in excelsis."

"Oh, Cogsworth, you old push-over!" she squealed, cooling her rosy cheeks with her fan. "Make sure you're ready when I get back; I must change into something without a corset." She waved her fan at him as she left. "See you soon, darling!"

Cogsworth had a sort of goofy grin on his face, which was very uncharacteristic of him. Belle giggled behind a hand, but it gratefully went unnoticed by the love-struck major domo, for she didn't wish to be rude. Cogsworth saw, however, Mrs. Potts smiling sensibly at him, like a gentler way of intending, _I told you so!_ Cogsworth immediately dropped his grin and glowered at her for being so wise. "I—you know I was going to clean up this place afterwards! I'm not a lazy lump like _other_ specific persons!"

"The ballroom will make do through a night of not glimmering on every visible surface," Mrs. Potts said logically. "Why not let them and you have some fun?"

Cogsworth seemed to struggle with this suggested option. After a moment, he turned to the royals for some approval. Both of them waved their hands at him to run off and see the Madame.

Cogsworth sighed deeply, resigning. "Fine, as you wish." He bowed to them and walked out, trying not to seem too excited about taking a break on ordering people around.

Chip yawned then, trying to cover it up with both of his hands, but his mother noticed.

"Bedtime, Chip," she said.

"But I'm not sleepy," he moaned, eyelids drooping.

"Yes you are," his mother insisted, lifting him into her arms. His head lolled onto her shoulder.

"No I'm not," he continued to try to convince without success.

Mrs. Potts inclined her head to the Prince and his Princess, murmuring a goodnight, and carried Chip up to the servants' quarters' hallway.

"Mama," Chip mumbled pleadingly with his eyes shut. "Don't make me sleep in the cupboard."

Mrs. Potts laughed softly. "Of course not, dear. You're sleeping in a bed." To confirm her point, she laid him in his bed by the window.

"Mama?" he whispered.

"Yes, dear?"

"Is this a 'happily ever after' like in a storybook?"

"No, luv," his mother replied with a small smile. "This is only the beginning…"

_**THE END**_

* * *

**A/N:** Yes! My first completed story! :D I'm so excited! Thank you all who reviewed and urged me to get off my butt again to finish it! It's been fun writing this story, but I'm glad I've finally completed it. :)

This won't be the last of L&B fics from me! I will continue to write about this amazing couple along with the rest of the cast of fantastic characters in other B&B fics. Thanks again for reading and I hope I'll be hearing from you all soon! (Review…lol.)


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